End Game
by Patti and Marg
Summary: Here is the last two months of WWII and the end of Stalag 13. Enjoy!
1. First Quarter

This story chronicles what we felt were the last days of WWII in Luft Stalag 13.  The major historical events that we wrote about actually happened, though admittedly, we took certain liberties on how they happened. The familiar Hogan's Heroes characters aren't ours; the rest are.  But they are free to use if you so wish. (Our only requirement here is that you do not use Toby unless you treat his character with tender loving care! He represents an important aspect of, and insight into, the authors' lives.) _ Hint… There will be a test later… Who is Toby?_   
  
This effort took almost four months of our lives to write and was our first foray into fan fiction.  Please be kind and tell us what you think. Enjoy! We want to hear from you!  
  
This story contains some strong language and violence.  Our rating would be PG-13. This story was originally posted in September 2001. Grammatical and continuity updates were completed in April 2004.  
  
**End Game  
First Quarter  
**  
_WWII still raged on.  The Allies had retaken Paris.  The Battle of the Bulge, which had spilled the blood of tens of thousand, of both German and Allied forces, ended with the Allies victorious.  On both fronts, the Allies were marching relentlessly toward Germany.  The Russians, who continued to advance toward Berlin, had retaken Poland.  With the other Allies liberating Athens and the horror that had been Auschwitz, the general consensus was that Germany would be defeated by summer's end.  
  
_**Hammelburg, Germany, Luft Stalag 13,   
March 15, 1945, 0430 Hours  
**  
In a Prisoner of War camp just outside the small town of Hammelburg, Colonel Robert Hogan, the Senior POW Officer, lay in his bunk contemplating the thick shadows on the ceiling of his small room.  It was a room that, after more than three years, he knew intimately, every crack and board, the lumpy mattress and the inadequate blanket.  It was a room he couldn't wait to leave.  Although he and the rest of the prisoners in this camp had stayed here voluntarily, it had never been home.  The latest reports from both London and the Underground placed the Russian forces nearing the German border.  The Allied troops had crossed that line back in September.  And listening to the German radio broadcasts was next to useless as they continually lied to the populace on the state of affairs.  The war was going to end, and the Allies would win.  Hogan liked to think that, over the past three years, he and his men had played no small part in the coming Allied victory.  
  
He frowned and shivered as a sudden strong gust of wind shook the shutters on his lone window and sent a frigid blast of air into the room.  One of the shutters banged against the side of the barracks as the wind knocked it loose.  Hogan quickly got up to close the shutter before it woke any of his men or alerted the guards. With shutter in hand though, he leaned against the windowsill breathing in the cold night air. The cold wind outside served as a reminder that there was still a lot of war left to fight.  They weren't leaving here anytime soon.  Hammelburg was to the south of Berlin, not near any other major town. And certainly after the three years that his team of saboteurs had operated, it didn't contain any major industry.  It would be a while before Allied forces made it this far to liberate the camp.  That was just as well, as Hogan and his underground contacts, with London's guidance, had put into motion a sequence of events that, if successful, could play a vital role in the defeat of Nazi Germany.  
  
Hogan took a moment to glance at the moon, and even after more than three years here, he still thought of the moon in terms of bombing raids -- tonight's moon was a perfect bomber's moon.  He was sure his countrymen and Allies were taking advantage of it somewhere, even though his ears could detect no sounds marring the stillness of the early morning. As his eyes traveled the wire, following the sweep of the searchlights, he was startled by the approach of the Sergeant of the Guard, Hans Schultz.  
  
"Colonel Hogan, what are you doing?"  Schultz asked almost whining.  "There is some monkey business going on.  No, don't tell me.  Just get back to bed, and close the window!"  
  
"Oh Schultz, don't worry so.  The wind knocked the shutter loose.  I'm merely closing it," Hogan told the corpulent guard with a charming smile, his teeth flashing in the moonlight.  
  
"Please, Colonel Hogan.  The window.  We will both get into trouble if you are caught with the window open," Schultz replied anxiously.  
  
"Okay, Okay.  Some guys take the fun out of everything," Hogan grumbled good-naturedly. He quickly closed and refastened the shutter, climbed back into his bunk, and warmed his toes under the blanket.   
  
**_But unbeknownst to both men, their brief encounter had been observed…   
_**  
Across the prison compound, Kommandant Wilhelm Klink stood in his dressing gown and slippers, looking out his bedroom window.  He was simply unable to sleep.  So much was happening, things he didn't want to believe but couldn't deny.  There had been Allied reports of other camps liberated, under deplorable and unspeakable conditions. He wanted to dismiss the Allied reports as propaganda, but hints of the truth had come from the SS whenever they had come into camp.    
  
These things were so much easier to not think about.  He tried desperately to distance himself from the horrors being reported. He tried in vain to convince himself that he was not responsible for any of it. _But Wilhelm_, his conscious now nagged at him, _you are German.  You are responsible.  Hitler did not do everything himself.  You, and others like you, helped him by turning a blind eye.  
_  
Wilhelm Klink had been a career officer when Hitler had gained power.  And it had been such a gradual shift in authority that he had merely awakened one day to find Nazism was the future of his country and if you opposed it, you found yourself dead.  He learned quickly that life was just simpler, easier, and safer when you let others dictate what to think, feel, and be.  Everyone spied on everyone else.  And trust was a word that held little meaning.  Children turned in their parents. Family members turned in each other.  There was nothing private. A treasonous word was enough to warrant a death sentence.  The only freedom that existed in Germany by the end of 1936 was within each man's mind, and he had felt, on more than one occasion, that even that was suspect.    
  
The German radio still reported glorious battles to the populace, but Klink knew the truth.  After the last month of stinging German defeats on both fronts, the SS had reassigned every able-bodied man.  The Kommandant had been left with a bare skeleton staff of young boys and old men, and more than 40 prisoners to every guard.  He and Hans Schultz were the only Luftwaffe personnel left.  Klink had thought about confronting the SS about the lack of personnel to adequately guard the prisoners, but he was sure the SS believed his POWs were nothing more than a nuisance, certainly better off dead.  None in the SS had ever accorded them any rights.  He was afraid that the SS would take matters into their own hands had he complained.   
  
Suddenly movement caught his attention across the prison compound.  _Colonel Hogan's barracks._  He watched as Schultz approached the open window, conversed briefly with the occupant -- Hogan himself unless Klink was mistaken -- then watched as the window closed and Schultz continued on with his rounds.  The encounter was enough, however, to turn his thoughts to his Senior Prisoner.    
  
_Colonel Robert Hogan. The man is different from any prisoner that had ever been sent here.  From the very beginning, Hogan had never acted like a prisoner. He has always acted like he was the one in command of this camp.   
_  
At first suspicious, Klink eventually came to realize that whatever Hogan had been up to had kept the POWs in his camp safe.  Not to mention having saved his own skin on more than one occasion. It had always been easier to let Hogan play his hand, as it was never Klink's intention to harm any of the POWs.  They were the enemy, but they were his responsibility to keep safe until the end of the war. So far, it had worked out to both of their advantages. Hogan had created a safe haven for the prisoners, and Klink had his stellar reputation for never having a successful escape from Stalag 13.   
  
_Let's hope nothing happens to change that so close to the end of the war.   
_  
Klink could admit now, that over time, he had actually found himself admiring the American Colonel.  Hogan always had his own ideals and opinions and was never afraid to express them openly.  It was a freedom that had been lacking in Klink's homeland for too long.  He hoped that after the defeat of Germany, which seemed to be looming closer every day, his countrymen would be allowed to rebuild.  The coming defeat did not bother him. It would be better this way, as Germany would be done with Hitler.   
  
Klink sighed deeply as the clock on the wall chimed out five a.m.  It was time to dress and face another day.  
  
**Luft Stalag 13, Barracks Two,   
Colonel Hogan's Quarters,   
March 15, 1945, 0600 Hours  
**  
Roll call had gone by uneventfully, with everyone present and accounted for. Hogan and the rest of his men had quietly returned to Barracks Two. The Colonel was glad that he hadn't had to make any excuses, as nothing had been going on the previous night. The moon had been too bright and he was not yet ready to begin the all-out offensive he had planned. But this morning, he did have a team leader meeting scheduled to continue hashing out those plans.  He almost couldn't believe that they'd come so far. All the preparations seemed to be coming together just fine.   
  
Hogan couldn't help but remember the day, two months earlier, when he announced to his men the plans they would carry out.   
  
**_January 10, 1945 1030 Hours…  
_**  
_"What do you mean we need to take over Stalag 13?!" Kinch had demanded.  
  
"Blow up two bridges, a chemical plant, and a munitions factory in one day!? You must be balmy!" Newkirk had accused.  
  
"Don't forget about the train depot and airfield!" LeBeau had added incredulously.  
  
"C'mon, Colonel Hogan, how does London expect us to do all this in one day?" Carter had asked, his voice breaking on the last word.  
  
_Hogan remembered making sure that his men all understood that if they accomplished everything, they would be playing a central role in helping the Allies surround the German forces. Russian troops would be approaching Berlin from the North, American troops from the East, and other Allied Forces from the West. And if they were successful, they would knock out any escape route to the South, effectively tightening a noose around the German Forces, and ultimately ending the war with an Allied victory.    
  
_Ha. After my explanation, the guys just stared at me quietly, and then exchanged glances amongst themselves. Kinch finally acquiesced and asked the question for them all,"Ok Colonel, what do you need us to do?"  
_  
A smile now appeared on Hogan's face, as he recalled how many times in the past three years that his men would look at him as if he had lost his mind, only to be silenced by Kinch's ultimate acceptance of his crazy schemes.  Not that he was ever really worried that they'd not back him up. It was just that he had taken to really enjoying that interplay of Kinch with the others.   
  
_And it still happens almost every time.  
_  
**Luft Stalag 13, Barracks Two,   
March 15, 1945, 0630 Hours  
**  
Hogan accepted a cup of coffee from LeBeau, as he waited for the last of the 20 team-leaders to settle in. This all-out offensive was such a complicated mission that Hogan had every barracks taking charge of different pieces of the puzzle. He, at first, had hoped that they would not have to seize the Stalag, but when the official go-ahead was given; there would be no way to continue the masquerade as POWs. In taking over the Stalag, his men could have free reign in and out of camp, simplifying at least, a small, but significant, part of the process.  
  
"Okay," said Hogan after the men were assembled. "To begin with I've just received word that the Russians have almost crossed the border into Germany.  Our first task, as you know, will be to secure Stalag 13.  Our target is 2300 hours on the day the Russians engage Berlin.  London's best guess is early to mid-April.  That gives us, at most, a month.  Is there anyone here who does not believe his team will be ready to go at a moment's notice within the next two weeks?"  
  
The room was silent.  
  
"You're sure?  Everything will be ready?" Hogan pressed.  "I don't want any surprises. This is just too important."  
  
"No sweat, Colonel," Kinch said, while many in the room also offered their readiness.    
  
"We've got this one well covered," Captain O'Malley agreed.  
  
 "No problem, Colonel," Newkirk assured as well.  
  
With that, the meeting went on rather uneventfully. The team leaders gave status reports on the progress being made by each barracks. At this point, no one was having difficulty with their parts. Most of what had been asked of them was just an extension of things they had done before. Only on a much larger scale.  
  
"I want daily updates from now on," Hogan said. "They don't have to be anything formal. I think the guards are starting to notice our little gatherings, anyway. Just inform either Kinch or me when you can. Dismissed."   
  
**Luft Stalag 13, Barracks Two,   
Colonel Hogan's Quarters,   
March 17, 1945, 0630 Hours  
**  
Hogan was sitting at his desk contemplating how relatively quiet the last couple of days had been. Barracks Sixteen had reported that they had emptied the munitions shed of all "live" ammo, and replaced it with blanks. Barracks Eighteen had done the same with the hand grenade cellar.  _At least, now we have control of almost all the live ammo. The only live ammo left is in the guns of the guards and the tower guns. Hopefully, we can get through the camp takeover without anyone getting hurt. There has always been the chance that anyone or all of us would get caught or killed, but thankfully we've managed to stave off that eventuality, thus far.   
  
It's just that I don't know if I'll be able to keep them all safe for this last mission.  I really have a bad feeling about all this.   
_  
Hogan had been spending a lot of time in his office, worrying about all the pieces that needed to come together to make this mission work. He would almost hide away, because he didn't want to face his men, worried that any one of them may not come back from this mission. It had always bothered him. He had always hated to lose a man under his command, but the men here at Stalag 13 were more than that, they were friends.  To have made it this far, and then to lose one, would be just unbearable.   
  
_You need to get out, get fresh air, and get your mind off this.  
_  
Hogan's musings were interrupted by a knock on his door. "Come."    
  
"Colonel. A message from London," Kinch said as he opened the door.  
  
"What's it say?" Hogan asked.   
  
"It's a reply to your wanting to use Stalag 13 as a safe house for local members of the underground who may need protection. London agrees with your decision. Of course, it's up to you to make it work, they cannot supply any more help at this time," quoted Kinch.  
  
"Okay thanks, Kinch.  Get Lieutenant Riley from Barracks Four to commandeer as much food as he can.  Use the empty space in the tunnels to store it," Hogan ordered. "Get in touch with the underground. Pass the word. Have them start moving food our way. We don't know how long we'll need to keep up the pretense of a POW camp after the sabotage missions are completed. Also, get Lieutenant Taylor from Barracks Fifteen working on plans to extend the living quarters, either below ground or above, say the recreation hall, for example."   
  
"Yes, sir. Will do," said Kinch as he headed to the door.   
  
"Kinch," Hogan began.  
  
"Yes, sir?" Kinch asked turning back to Hogan, expectantly.  
  
"Thanks for being my right-hand man," Hogan said with a slight smile.   
  
"You're welcome, Colonel," replied a broadly smiling Kinch.  "I wouldn't have missed it for the world."  
  
**Luft Stalag 13, Barracks Two,  
Colonel Hogan's Quarters,   
March 25, 1945, 1900 Hours  
**  
The days were getting longer and longer for Colonel Robert Hogan and his men. There had been no new news from London on the position of the Russian forces. Hogan's men even had most of their preparations made. LeBeau and his team of tailors had been working non-stop for the past few months. They now had plenty of German uniforms for the sabotage teams, as well as for the entire staff of  "POW" guards from Barracks One, Thirteen and Fourteen. Newkirk and his band of forgers had also been working non-stop on creating enough identity cards and papers for an army.  Another team had been working on creating enough counterfeit money to finance their new army. They now had 500,000 marks. And Carter had manufactured, wired, and in some instances, created new varieties of incendiaries for all of the teams.  And Barracks Twenty had been sending men in and out of camp for days collecting food as well as any maps that could be supplied by the underground to aid in the sabotage efforts. Their hard work was keeping them in close contact with the underground.   
  
And the underground members, themselves, had been indispensable in this effort as well. Hogan had them working in a 75-mile radius of the camp. The planned sabotage was spread over a wide area, but timed so that everything would be blown simultaneously. He had teams ready to sabotage the Darmstadt Chemical Plant, the Wurzburg Munitions Factory, the Schweinfurt Airfield, the Train Depot in Lindach, as well as teams out to blow the bridges in Lohr and Hammelburg.   
  
All of Hogan's people were ready. They needed only wait for the take over. As soon as that was accomplished, they would commandeer the motor pool and start packing the trucks with all the equipment so the sabotage teams would be ready to start leaving camp by early the next morning. Once this mission began, the schedule was very tight.  
  
_No wonder I've got the willies_, thought Hogan._  The worst part of this whole process has been the waiting. When word had first come down for the mission, it had put a number of other sabotage missions on hold. Some of which can still be implemented within an hour of my order, but hopefully none will have to happen. This mission is designed to be the last.   
  
I can't believe it's almost over. No more death and destruction. All of the killing can end.    
  
The sooner this war ends, the better.  
_  
**Luft Stalag 13, Tunnel under Barracks Two,   
April 1, 1945 1900 Hours  
**  
Hogan, Newkirk and LeBeau, standing dressed as German civilians, were getting ready to go out to meet with the local underground leaders. The underground had wanted one last meeting before everything was put into motion. Some wanted to discuss what the situation would be like after the sabotage, wanting a contingency plan for getting their families into Stalag 13.  Others were just looking for Hogan to tell them that everything would be fine.  
  
They were to meet at the Haus-Brau in Hammelburg, somewhere rather public so as to not draw too much attention. The owner, Hermann Schlick, a long-standing member of the underground had set up a birthday party in a back room so they could talk in peace.   
  
**_After arriving at the Haus-Brau…  
_**  
Hogan told the people gathered, "As soon as Stalag 13 is secure, your families can move in. As you know, I can't make any promises. There is still a war on, and I can't determine what the German forces will do.  All I can do is promise that I will do everything in my power to keep your families safe until you return, or until the Allies liberate Stalag 13.  I don't want to lie to you, there is so much that can go wrong, so much that I have no control over. But I swear to you that my men and I will do the best we can to preserve your trust in us."    
  
"Thank you, Colonel Hogan," said the group's leader, Heinrich Berger.  "I think we just wanted to make sure that you were still on our side. With the war being close to over, and knowing the horrors that have been committed by Hitler, we were worried London would blame all Germans, instead of just the few in charge, and that we would be left to fend for ourselves."  
  
"I would never let that happen. You know that. You have all been indispensable to our continued success," Hogan assured, as his eyes searched the room and met the eyes of each member of the underground present. "So are we all set? Does everyone have what they need?"   
  
"Yes, we are all set. We await your orders, Colonel. Good luck," said Berger.   
  
"Thanks, same to you," replied Hogan.   
  
**_It was then that the underground leaders began to leave somewhat sporadically so as not to be noticed…   
_**  
Hogan, Newkirk, and LeBeau decided to wait until the civilians were clear before leaving. So they just sat quietly, not talking. Newkirk and LeBeau wanted to leave the Colonel to his thoughts. They had both noticed how his demeanor had changed recently. He'd become very introspective.   
  
_God knows it is his prerogative_, thought Newkirk**_._**_  He's got a big weight on his shoulders, but if anyone can handle it, Colonel Hogan can.  
_  
Just as the three were preparing to leave, a commotion broke out in the front of the restaurant. Newkirk went quickly to investigate and saw the Gestapo heading through the restaurant, and shouting in German about the underground and traitors.   
  
"Gestapo!"  Newkirk hissed, gesturing to his companions urgently.  
  
"Let's go.  Out the back," Hogan ordered, pulling his gun out.  "Get to the truck."  
  
The Colonel hung back slightly to ensure that both of his men exited the building safely.  But, just as he started through the door himself, two Gestapo officers entered into the backroom, with Major Wolfgang Hochstetter, the Gestapo Area Commander, bringing up the rear.   
  
"Halt. Don't move," one of the Gestapo yelled.   
  
Hogan turned back and fired two shots in the Gestapo's direction. He had kept his back partially turned, as he was fairly certain Hochstetter would recognize him. He was under no illusion that he had hit anyone; he was simply trying to slow them down.  Quickly he made his escape outside and ran toward the truck they had stolen earlier in the evening.  
  
LeBeau reached the truck first and hastily started it up.  Newkirk dove into the back turning and crouching to provide covering fire for the Colonel's escape.  As Hogan reached the truck, many more Gestapo with guns blazing came from around the building. Hogan had barely gotten a foot on the passenger sideboard of the truck, before LeBeau floored it.   
  
Holding tightly to the side of the truck, Hogan stood facing backward, and fired non-stop at the pursuing Gestapo. The next thing Hogan knew, a searing pain ripped through his side.  He was propelled backward, and landed almost in the front seat. He started to feel dizzy and almost lost his grip on the truck. The last thing he saw, before losing consciousness, was LeBeau grabbing for him to keep him from falling.  
  
"Newkirk! The Colonel has been hit. Come help him," LeBeau yelled urgently, holding onto Hogan with all of his strength while trying to keep the truck on the road.    
  
Newkirk pulled Hogan into the truck bed, laid him down, and checked for a pulse. It was faint, but there. He tried to stop the bleeding, and yelled to LeBeau simultaneously, "We have a small reprieve. I knocked out a lot of tires in the trucks parked in the area. I'm not sure how long it will take them to regroup." He glanced worriedly down at his patient. "Louis, we need to get the Colonel back to camp, he's bleeding badly. Can we dump the truck?"  
  
"Yeah, but I don't want it to be too close to Stalag 13. I'll let you out with the Colonel, and then I will ditch the truck and backtrack. Can you make it alone?" asked LeBeau.   
  
"Yeah no problem," Newkirk reassured.  
  
Newkirk turned his full attention to Hogan, trusting LeBeau to see them to safety.  He hurriedly examined his commanding officer, finding what looked like an entry and an exit wound from a single bullet in the officer's left side_.  At least, the bullet still isn't in there. Thank God for small favors._ Newkirk quickly discovered though that trying to stop the bleeding was impossible with the crazy driving LeBeau was doing. But after a few frantic minutes and several creative curses later, he did manage a makeshift pressure bandage, using cloth ripped from Hogan's shirt.  
  
**Hammelburg, Germany,   
Haus-Brau Restaurant,   
April 1, 1945, 2300 Hours  
**  
Major Hochstetter shouted orders as he exited the Haus-Brau. His men had converged on the rear of the building when they had heard the firing begin. The three fugitives were trying to escape in a truck. Bullets were flying everywhere. One of the fugitives was shooting at all the vehicles from the back of the truck, effectively taking care of a quick chase by the Gestapo.  The third man appeared to have been shot by one of his men. And that man had then been pulled into the truck as it disappeared around a corner.   
  
Hochstetter and his men's only recourse was to regroup in the front of the building where the only working vehicles were. Soon though, they were in hot pursuit of the fugitives with Hochstetter in the lead vehicle. As they drove, something nagged him about the wounded man. He had only gotten a quick glimpse. The man looked so familiar, yet he just couldn't place him.   
  
Hochstetter had troops in two different vehicles driving frantically to catch up with the truck. The driver of his vehicle was able to follow the truck's tire tracks on the muddy back roads of Hammelburg. They had traveled almost three miles when they noticed that it looked as if the truck might have stopped briefly. _Picking someone up or dropping someone off? Hmmm I wonder. There's nothing in the area.  If one of them were injured they would probably continue onto Wurzburg, to the nearest hospital._ Hochstetter ordered his troops onward.  After another two miles, his troops found the fugitive's truck dumped into a swamp.   
  
"Macht Schnell," ordered Hochstetter. "Search the surrounding area. They can't have gotten very far with an injured man."    
  
**_The Gestapo searched for 45 minutes or so, before Hochstetter ordered their return…  
_**  
"Where could they have gone?" asked the Major more of himself than anyone specifically. "What's in the area that they can use as a hide-out?" _Or maybe get medical treatment? Of course that man could be dead by now. And we may only be searching for two fugitives. But you would think his body would have been left behind in their rush to escape. Hmm._   
  
"Sir," one of his officers interrupted his thoughts. "Luft Stalag 13 is just a short distance away."  
  
"Stalag 13!" yelled Hochstetter.  "That's it, Hogan!! I've got him now! I've always suspected that there was more to that man, than the coward he portrayed. I should be able to force his hand with concrete proof! He can't hide a gun shot wound."  
  
Hochstetter gathered his men and they headed for Stalag 13.    
  
**Luft Stalag 13, Tunnel under Barracks Two,   
April 2,1945, 0030 Hours   
**  
Newkirk had returned with Colonel Hogan close to an hour ago, after having carried Hogan over his back until the Colonel had regained consciousness. It was then that Hogan had refused to let Newkirk continue to carry him any further. Newkirk protested, but was only allowed to support the Colonel as he walked. Newkirk had been very worried during the whole trip back to camp, as the Colonel had been bleeding badly and though the man wouldn't admit it, Newkirk knew the wound was taking a big toll as they made their way slowly through the forest surrounding Stalag 13.    
  
And even after they had made it back to camp, the Colonel only allowed Sergeant Wilson, the camp medic, to apply tight pressure bandages to help stop the bleeding. Wilson did make sure that the Colonel knew that he was concerned about the blood loss and chance of shock. But all Wilson got for his concern was a rebuke.  
  
"I have too much to do right now to worry about that, Wilson, but I will keep it in mind," Hogan replied. He was still worried that LeBeau had not yet returned, but he knew that he couldn't concentrate on that and just hoped for the best. Because for now he had to make sure his men were ready for what was probably coming next. So, he had Kinch call an emergency team leader meeting while Wilson had been giving him the once over.    
  
**_Once the team leaders arrived…  
_**  
Hogan stoically stood and addressed them. "You all have prepared well for this upcoming mission. I'm sorry to say, that I may have screwed that up tonight. I believe Major Hochstetter may have recognized me as we left the Haus Brau.  If that's the case, he will show up here. I will personally deal with the consequences of my actions, when that happens. I promise you all that I will not give any of our plans away, even if it comes to taking or losing my life in the process. This final mission is too important not to be brought to bear on the German forces. Sergeant Kinchloe will be in charge, in the event of my… absence." As Hogan finished that statement, he started to hear the murmurs of dissention in the ranks.   
  
"Colonel Hogan, you can't think like that. We can take over the camp tonight!" Carter said excitedly.  
  
"Yeah, let's do it now!" agreed Newkirk.  
  
Hogan heard lots of agreement coming from the team leaders, so he quickly tried to forestall any mass riot. "Gentlemen, we can't do this now. We had our original timetable for a reason. I'm hoping I can still talk myself out of this. Hochstetter was looking for the underground. I need to make him believe that all he found were three escaped prisoners. I will have to admit to escaping, especially if it's obvious that Hochstetter knows I was wounded. I will play that by ear. The fence on the south side will have to be forfeited as our escape route. Any plans to use that escape route from now on will have to change."   
  
As the pain in his side got worse, Hogan had to pause and take a deep breath before continuing. "This is an order. No one is to make waves if Hochstetter arrives. I do not want any crazy rescue attempts made on my behalf. You all need to promise me that you will continue our plans no matter what may happen to me."   
  
Hogan looked at his men's faces.  They all looked as if they planned on disobeying his orders. "I need you all to promise me that you will do nothing to jeopardize the planned mission," he demanded. After what seemed like an eternity to Hogan, Kinch came forward and promised that he would keep to the planned missions. Hogan visibly relaxed, knowing Kinch would keep the men to "his" word.   
  
**_Just then…  
_**  
LeBeau appeared at the tunnel hub. "Mon Colonel are you all right?" he asked worried.  All the way back to camp his imagination had been working overtime on what could have happened to Hogan.  
  
"I'll be fine," answered Hogan. "I was going to ask you the same thing?"    
  
"I was able to dump the truck and head back without running into any Gestapo," said LeBeau.   
  
"Good, good. Kinch, please fill in LeBeau on the newest orders. Everyone else get back to your barracks. I'm going to my quarters and rest," Hogan said.  "Kinch, put someone on Gestapo look out.  I want to be up and awake when and if they arrive." He turned slowly toward the tunnel entrance to Barracks Two, wanting to forestall any more discussion.   
  
"Yes, sir," Kinch agreed solemnly to the man's back.  
  
Newkirk caught up to the Colonel and helped him ascend the ladder. He could easily tell that Hogan was in a lot of pain as they made their way to his quarters. And he noticed that blood was already spotting through the clean bandages. So, at the very least, Newkirk was planning on staying with the Colonel until they reached his quarters.   
  
As they both reached the door to the office, Hogan turned and faced Newkirk. He patted him on the shoulder and said, "Thanks for everything Newkirk. I never would have made it back here without you."   
  
Newkirk expression was angry as he said, "I won't accept your thanks, Colonel, if all I brought you back here for was to face a Gestapo goon squad. Won't you change your mind?"  
  
"I can't," Hogan answered. "You know there's too much at stake here."   
  
Newkirk replied with a very quiet "Yes, sir," and turned away, his shoulders slumped in regret.   
  
As Hogan entered his quarters, the pain began to shoot through his left side. _I have to stay awake. Make that stay alive, long enough to answer to Hochstetter. Maybe he didn't recognize me.  Wishful thinking, Hogan, you saw the recognition in his eyes. I'm surprised he's not here already. Thank God the meeting had been over and everyone else had gone. I can now have some legitimacy in saying that Newkirk, LeBeau and I were just escaping. Whatever happens, I will not cave in to Hochstetter.   
_  
No longer able to stand though, Hogan headed for his bunk to lie down, knowing that he needed to conserve what little strength he had left, if he was even going to have a chance of surviving Hochstetter's visit.  
  
**_Meanwhile still in the tunnel under Barracks Two…  
_**  
LeBeau and Carter verbally assaulted Kinch, after Newkirk had left to help Hogan back to his quarters.  
  
"We can't just do nothing, Kinch," said Carter anxiously.  
  
"Oui, there has to be something we can do?" LeBeau added hopefully.   
  
Kinch replied, "I gave my word to the Colonel that I would do nothing. I can't go back on my word."   
  
As Newkirk returned to the tunnel and overheard the conversation he interjected, "Actually, you promised not to make waves if Hochstetter came into camp. What if we find a way to stop him from coming to camp."  
  
Kinch's eyes lit up. "Yeah, the Gestapo Headquarters bombing! That's it! The underground was all set to put that plan into motion. I'll contact them. They told the Colonel that they would only need an hour of notice to act." Kinch went immediately to fire up the radio and contact Heinrich Berger.   
  
Berger was relieved to learn that the three men had made it safely back to Stalag 13, but he was upset to learn that Colonel Hogan had been wounded. Hermann Schlick had contacted him and informed him that the Gestapo had arrived in full force before Hogan and his men had left to return to camp, but had not been aware of the injury to the Colonel.   
  
The mission that Kinch now asked the underground to complete was only supposed to be a "GO" on Hogan's personal command, but it didn't take much for Kinch to persuade Berger.  The underground hated the Gestapo almost as much as they liked Colonel Hogan. "Colonel Hogan has done so much for us," said Berger. "It's the least we can do. It's going to take an hour for us to regroup. Do you have a contingency plan if Hochstetter arrives before that?"  
  
Kinch replied with regret, "That's where it gets complicated. Colonel Hogan made us promise to do nothing that would bring any unwanted attention to the camp. I gave him my word to comply with his order. We are just going to have to hope that the Colonel can handle himself with Hochstetter until you can do what you need to."  
  
"We'll do our best, Kinch," promised Berger.  
  
"Thanks. Good luck," Kinch replied, signing off. He looked up from the console, into the solemn faces of Newkirk, LeBeau and Carter.  "It's a go.  Let's just hope they can get to it before Hochstetter gets here."  
  
**_Within 30 minutes…  
_**  
Kinch was informed of the Gestapo's presence and entered Hogan's quarters to notify him. "Colonel. The Gestapo are here," Kinch said as he helped the officer to his feet.    
  
"Thanks, Kinch. I'm up. Go back to bed now. I don't need you in trouble for being awake at all hours too," replied Hogan, as he tried to put on his bomber jacket hoping it would help hide the fact that he was injured. Hogan took a deep breath, and straightened up, just as his office door closed behind Kinch.   
  
_Show no weakness, Hogan,_ he willed himself, knowing he faced his toughest challenge.  
  
**Luft Stalag 13, Outside Front Gates,   
April 2, 1945, 0130 Hours  
**  
When Major Hochstetter was stopped at the gate by the guards, Gestapo soldiers leapt from the vehicles and threatened the inexperienced camp guards. They were allowed to enter as Sergeant Schultz approached. "What can I do for you, Major?" asked the corpulent guard.  
  
"Where is your Senior POW Officer, Colonel Hogan?" demanded the enraged Gestapo Major.   
  
_Oh no!_  "Major.  Let me get Colonel Klink.  I'm sure he can help you," Schultz said.  
  
"Sergeant, if I had wanted to speak with Kommandant Klink, I would have asked for him.  Where is Colonel Hogan?!" screamed Hochstetter, as his soldiers threatened Schultz with raised weapons.    
  
"Jawohl, Major. Barracks Two is this way," Schultz offered. But before Schultz headed for Barracks Two, he ordered one of the camp guards to wake Colonel Klink and ordered that each barracks be locked down, knowing that the fewer prisoners out in the compound, the better it would be.  Schultz then hurried after Hochstetter thinking, _This situation doesn't look good._   
  
The Gestapo soldiers barged through the doors of Barracks Two. Several held the POWs at bay with machine guns, while one soldier burst into Colonel Hogan's quarters.  The soldier grabbed Hogan and shoved him hard into the main barracks. Hogan had to grab the edge of a bunk, to keep from falling.    
  
"Move," the guard ordered.   
  
"Okay, okay.  Hold your horses," Hogan replied.   
  
The guard's response was a rifle butt into Hogan's left side, directly impacting his wounds.  _They know._ Hogan collapsed to the floor clutching at the sudden fire in his side. He was picked up again and thrown through the barracks door into the compound and landed hard on the ground. His men spilled through the barracks door behind him and into the compound.  Someone had come to help him up, but gunfire rang out from the Gestapo, forestalling any help. Hogan couldn't spare the energy to look but hoped no one was injured. He slowly managed to get to his knees and found himself confronted with Major Hochstetter.   
  
"Hogan, so tell me. Where were you at 10:00pm last night?" demanded the Gestapo Major.   
  
Hogan made it to his feet to stand ramrod straight facing Hochstetter before he answered, "I was right here in camp, Major."   
  
"Do not lie to me, Colonel Hogan!" exclaimed Hochstetter.   
  
Before Hogan could get another word out, a second rifle butt was thrust into his injured side. This time Hogan nearly passed out as he hit the ground.  
  
Colonel Klink hurried from his quarters into the compound just as Hogan was hit for the second time. Nervously, Klink confronted Hochstetter, "What's the meaning of this, Major? Why are you beating my Senior POW Officer?"   
  
"Your Colonel Hogan is a member of the underground resistance in this area, Colonel," replied Hochstetter. "He was involved in an altercation with my men this evening at the Haus-Brau in Hammelburg. We were there to arrest suspected members of the underground when your Senior POW and two others started shooting."   
  
"That's ridiculous, Major. Hogan is a POW! How would he contact the underground?" Klink asked, not believing it possible.  
  
Hogan had managed to get to his feet again as Klink's interruption had given him extra time. He could feel the blood running down his side though, and was not sure that he could take another hit like the last two.   
  
Hochstetter chose to ignore Klink's question and returned his attention to Hogan, insisting, "Do I have to ask you again, Hogan?  Where were you at 10:00pm last night?"   
  
"I told you, Major. I was right here in camp," replied Hogan stonily.   
  
Hogan was ready this time as he saw the rifle being raised. He grabbed it with all his strength, and tried to block the force of the blow.  But all he accomplished was oblivion as from behind another guard raised his rifle and slammed it into the right side of Hogan's face. The American Colonel went down in a heap, not moving.  
  
"Dummkopf, I wanted him conscious," Hochstetter yelled. "Is he even still alive?"  
  
 "Ja," his man answered after hastily checking the prisoner.    
  
"Take him and follow me to the Kommandant's office," ordered Hochstetter. "I will interrogate him when he wakes.  He turned back when Klink didn't immediately follow after him. "Are you coming, Klink?"   
  
Klink followed, not knowing how to deal with the crazed Gestapo Major.  He'd never seen Hochstetter this enraged before. He had no idea what was going to happen.  _Just having Colonel Hogan beat in front of his men is not a good sign. Hogan's men are very loyal to him. There are not enough German soldiers in camp to stop what could become a riot. And with the Gestapo here… men on both sides could die. This shouldn't be happening now. We are so close to the end of this war.   
_  
The other prisoners, having watched the assault on their commanding officer, were getting more and more agitated. And the remaining Gestapo in the compound were getting more and more nervous by the minute.   
  
Schultz quickly found Kinch and tried to get him to get the men to return to the barracks. "Please, Kinch, I do not trust the Gestapo and I know that Colonel Hogan wouldn't want anyone else hurt. Please have the prisoners return to the barracks!" Schultz pleaded.  
  
Kinch tore his eyes away from the Kommandant's closed door -- the one Colonel Hogan had just been dragged through.  _Schultz is right. We need to get inside to listen to what was happening. _He turned and yelled, "All right. Let's get back to the barracks."  
  
Schultz was astonished at how quickly and willingly the men returned to Barracks Two.  He placed a guard on the barracks and, with a heavy heart, headed towards the Kommandant's office.  _I wonder if Colonel Hogan has one more trick up his sleeve and can talk himself out of this one.  
_  
**_Inside the Kommandant's office…  
_**  
Hogan was still unconscious when two soldiers -- one Gestapo, the other from Stalag 13 -- brought him into Klink's office. "Handcuff him to that chair," ordered Hochstetter. The men complied and then went to stand out of Hochstetter's way.  
  
"Major, you need to explain to me how you plan to prove Hogan was the one present at the Haus-Brau," demanded Klink.  
  
"You can see for yourself, Kommandant," replied Hochstetter going over to where Hogan was slumped in the chair.  He pulled open Hogan's bomber jacket, and revealed the bloodstained shirt beneath. "Your Senior POW managed to get himself shot while trying to flee." He ripped the shirt aside to pull off the blood stained bandages, showing the bullet wound clearly, still seeping blood.  
  
As Klink watched Hochstetter remove the bandages and saw the gunshot wound, he realized that he could no longer approach Hogan the same way ever again.  _Why would he try and escape so close to the end of the war? This made no sense. Hogan certainly can't be involved with the underground…or can he? Either way, I can't let this situation get any worse. Major Hochstetter seems on the verge of insanity. Who knows what he and his men will do?  
_  
The bandages being removed seemed to rouse Hogan. He stirred slowly. Hochstetter backhanded the Colonel across the face several times, to get his attention. "You can't hide your guilt any longer, Hogan. I want you to tell me what the underground has planned," demanded Hochstetter.   
  
Hogan's eyes fluttered open. He appeared to have trouble focusing. He was feeling somewhat detached from the world. He could feel the blood pumping through his veins, his heart beating in his chest, and his head pounding. His eyes traveled to the sound of Hochstetter's voice. _Hochstetter just asked me something. What I don't know. Don't answer, his mind screamed. Say nothing!   
_  
Clarity returned slowly and along with it, the pain. Hogan tried to assess his situation. He could tell that he was in Klink's office, and handcuffed to a chair.  He could feel that the bandages were gone. That meant, that Klink knew the truth and somehow that troubled him.  _I guess there's no use in trying to convince anyone that I never left camp.  
_  
"Answer me, Hogan!  What is the underground planning?" Hochstetter yelled as he grabbed a nightstick from his guard and hit Hogan hard in the stomach.   
  
The pain reverberated from Hogan's head to his toes. Gasping, Hogan replied, "I don't know what you are talking about, Major." He was interrupted by a coughing spell and then continued, "I had no contact with the underground." More coughing.   
  
"Why were you in Hammelburg, Hogan?"  Hochstetter screamed.  
  
"My men and I were trying to plan an escape route," gasped Hogan, holding onto consciousness tenuously.  
  
"Do not lie to me!"  Hochstetter screamed, backhanding Hogan again. "We have ways of making you talk."  
  
"Go to Hell, you Bastard," Hogan replied his world starting to spin.  
  
In a mad rage, Hochstetter repeatedly struck Hogan with the nightstick. _Hogan will either talk or die.  It no longer matters to me which one it will be!    
_  
Hogan felt like his insides had been ruptured. He began coughing again, but this time spitting up blood as well. He knew now he wouldn't survive Hochstetter's tirade. A last bit of anger rose from the pit of his stomach. He let fly a rapid string of expletives, hoping that Hochstetter's next blow would end it for good.  He was hurting so badly. He didn't think he could take much more anyway.   
  
But before Hochstetter could react to Hogan's outburst, a Gestapo officer entered Klink's office in a panic, followed by Schultz.   
  
"What is it?" demanded Hochstetter. "I didn't want to be disturbed."   
  
"I'm sorry, sir, but there have been multiple explosions at Gestapo Headquarters in Hammelburg. The building is totally engulfed in flames," the officer reported nervously.   
  
"What!" Hochstetter said in disbelief, "That can't be! Round up the rest of the men. We'll be returning to Hammelburg immediately."  
  
"Jawohl, Herr Major," replied the officer as he quickly left the office to carry out his commander's orders.  
  
Hochstetter turned back toward Hogan with an evil grin. "I no longer have time to finish our conversation. A pity." He reached for his revolver, and with one quick motion the gun was pointed at Hogan's temple.   
  
Hogan readied himself for what would be his release from pain. He closed his eyes and heard the gun go off, but nothing happened. Hogan forced open his eyes to find Colonel Klink standing in front of him, holding the revolver and the room full of angry Germans pointing guns at one another.  
  
Klink was saying, "Major, you haven't proven to me that Colonel Hogan had anything to do with your underground. That makes him only an escaped prisoner, which leaves him under my authority. Go tend to your burning building, I will see to Colonel Hogan."  
  
"Klink, you idiot, have you lost your mind?" Hochstetter hollered.   
  
Klink stared at Hochstetter, for once not giving an inch.  "You and your men are to leave Stalag 13 immediately, Major. Unless you can come up with concrete proof of Colonel Hogan's involvement with the underground, do not return here."  
  
"This isn't over; your traitorous actions will be dealt with soon. Sympathizing with the enemy. BAH!"  Hochstetter and his men left Colonel Klink's office without further comment.   
  
It was then that Hogan found his world spinning wildly out of control. He had watched everything through a blood tinged haze. _What just happened? Did I see it right, or is this some strange version of Hell?_  Vaguely he thought he heard Klink giving orders, but nothing made any sense anymore and his world quickly turned black once again.  
  
Klink ordered Private Neuberg to remove the handcuffs. "Private, get someone to help you move Colonel Hogan to my quarters," ordered Klink.  "I will call for a doctor.  It will have to be Doctor Freiling. With the bombing of Gestapo Headquarters, the doctors at the hospital won't come," he said out loud to himself.  
  
"Schultz find the medic, Sergeant Wilson. Have him report to my quarters immediately. Have the guards pull double duty until further notice. We will need to find out how Colonel Hogan and his men escaped from camp. Complete an additional head count of the prisoners as well," ordered Klink.  
  
"Jawohl, Herr Kommandant," replied Schultz as he headed out the door.  
  
Kommandant Klink headed for his living quarters. He couldn't bear to sit in his office to make the call. Hogan's blood had stained the chair and floor. Some of it had even spattered as far as his desk.   
  
Private Neuberg returned with another guard and they transferred Hogan to Klink's living quarters. Klink indicated to them that Hogan should be placed in his bedroom.   
  
Sergeant Wilson rushed into the Kommandant's quarters, just as the guards finished moving Hogan. As he passed through Klink's quarters, he noticed that the Kommandant was on the phone, but Klink hadn't spared him a second glance. Wilson just went immediately to examine his commanding officer.  
  
As Private Neuberg and the other German soldier returned from the bedroom, Klink indicated that he wanted Neuberg to remain in his quarters to guard the prisoners coming in and out and quickly dismissed the other soldier.  
  
**Luft Stalag 13, Barracks Two,   
April 2, 1945, During Colonel Hogan's Interrogation  
**  
The men of Barracks Two, along with every barracks leader, had crammed into Hogan's office.  They listened anxiously to what was going on in Klink's office. They had heard Hochstetter's tirades and had listened as Hogan's responses got more and more disjointed.  The Colonel had not sounded good at all. Kinch was afraid that, even if the underground succeeded, it would be too late for their commanding officer.  When they heard Hogan's expletive-laden outburst, they all knew that Hogan had reached his breaking point. He was trying to get himself killed, before he told the Major anything.   
  
At the crucial moment though, word of the bombing had interrupted Hochstetter, who announced he was leaving for Hammelburg immediately. The men in Barracks Two cheered, thinking that Hogan was off the hook, but they were silenced when the gunshot rang out.  No one had heard what had happened, everyone feared the worst, but Kommandant Klink's words rang in everyone ears. Hogan was still alive.  Klink had apparently had some altercation with Hochstetter and forced him to leave.  And now, Klink was contacting Doctor Freiling for Hogan.   
  
_Luckily for Colonel Hogan, Doc Freiling is a member of the underground._ "Baker," ordered Kinch. "Contact Doc Freiling, make sure he knows he's coming here for Colonel Hogan. Also try and get a status report on what's happening at Gestapo Headquarters."   
  
**Luft Stalag 13, Compound,   
April 2, 1945, 0200 Hours  
**  
After securing the medic and doubling the guard, Schultz ordered his men to start a prisoner head count. He then stopped by Barracks Two, wanting Hogan's men to know his condition. He entered Barracks Two and was almost bowled over by Kinch, Newkirk, LeBeau and Carter.   
  
"How's Colonel Hogan, Schultz?" Kinch asked distraught.  
  
"He's alive, but barely. Kommandant Klink has called for the doctor from Hammelburg. Colonel Hogan is in the Kommandant's quarters.  Sergeant Wilson is with him now. You four may come with me to see him," said Schultz.  
  
The four men bolted from the barracks, ran across the compound and into Klink's quarters, with Schultz trying to keep up. Klink, who was still on the phone, turned when the four barged in.  He was still holding the revolver. The POWs came to a screeching halt, staring at the gun in Klink's hands. Klink actually had to follow their gaze to his hand. He had forgotten he was still carrying it. He handed it to Schultz and allowed the four men to pass into his sleeping quarters.   
  
Hogan was on Colonel Klink's bed.  Wilson was trying to stop the bleeding from his original wounds, as well as from the nasty gash on his head. He turned as the four men approached. "Kinch, Colonel Hogan is unconscious and will need blood, he's bleeding internally as well as from the more obvious injuries.  He's an O+, can you get about six guys lined up?"  
  
"Carter, take care of that," Kinch ordered, motioning for Wilson to continue.    
  
"He's in very bad shape. He's lost more blood than I want to discuss.  His blood pressure is almost non-existent and he's in shock," reported a very worried Wilson. "He really needs a doctor, Kinch. I don't think I can handle this alone."  
  
Kinch went to Wilson's side, placed his hand on his shoulder. "It will be okay. Just do the best you can.  It's all anyone could ask of you, it's all he would ask of you.  Colonel Klink was going to call Doc Freiling, let's hope that he comes soon. What do you need us to do?"  
  
"There's nothing, really. I only hope the Colonel can hold out until the doctor arrives. He has internal injuries that I'm not qualified to deal with. I'm just trying to keep him warm and stop him from bleeding to death," Wilson replied.    
  
Kinch looked up when Klink entered the room.  "I have talked to the doctor personally, he is on his way.  He should be here very shortly."  
  
Kinch stood. "Thank you, Kommandant.  Can you tell us what happened?"  
  
Klink stared at the still form of Colonel Hogan for a moment before answering Kinch. He hoped he could make things go back to normal.  "Major Hochstetter was unable to prove his allegation that Colonel Hogan was involved with the underground," Klink finally replied. But before he could continue, Schultz entered the bedroom to announce that all prisoners were present and accounted for.  "Good," replied Klink, "there still has never been a successful escape from Stalag 13."  He now had time to question Sergeant Kinchloe about the escape route, but he decided to wait until after Hogan got medical attention.  
  
Kinch nodded his head, somewhat amazed. "Yes, sir. That's true."  Kinch had expected Klink to blow his top about the escape route, but he didn't. _This is very strange.  _But at the moment he didn't care, Klink had called for a doctor for Hogan.  _Anything else can wait.  
_  
"How is he?" Klink asked.  
  
"Not good.  Sergeant Wilson has asked for blood donors. The Colonel has internal injuries that will need the doctor's care," Kinch replied as his gaze shifted to where Hogan lay. "Sergeant Carter should be back shortly with the donors."  
  
Klink couldn't help but notice the worry and devotion in Kinch's gaze. Hogan was a fortunate man to have people who cared this much about him. "I'll have Schultz help Sergeant Carter. You may stay with Colonel Hogan," Klink said starting to leave his bedroom.   
  
"Thank you, sir," Kinch replied.  He turned, grabbed a chair, and placed it by Hogan's bedside. Kinch sat slowly and really looked at Hogan for the first time since entering the room.  Hogan was so pale, his face nearly as white as the pillow behind his head.  His black hair was in stark contrast to his white face, though the hair on the right side of his head was plastered down with blood from his head wound.  There was a bandage that had already stained through on his right temple.  His right eye was swollen shut.  There were bruises already starting to show on the officer's face.  Wilson had blankets covering the rest of Hogan's body to try to counteract the shock.  He could only imagine what additional injuries lay concealed.   
  
Wanting to have some time alone with Hogan, Kinch asked Newkirk and LeBeau, "Can you guys go check on Baker.  He's supposed to be monitoring the radio for updates on the Gestapo Headquarters bombing."  
  
"Sure," they replied. "We're on it."  Both men knew Kinch's relationship to Hogan was based on more than just respect for your superior. The two men were truly friends. It didn't take much to see he wanted some time with Hogan. Not to mention, they were sure he wanted to keep an eye on the doctor and medic.  
  
LeBeau took a moment to check on the Colonel before they left. "Take good care of him, Wilson," he said as he turned to leave.   
  
"Louis, let's go," Newkirk prodded, already at the door, not willing to see his commanding officer so helpless.  He had tried to save the Colonel's life earlier that evening, only to have to listen to him being nearly beaten to death.  Although it had been his idea to have the underground distract Hochstetter, it hadn't been enough to spare the Colonel additional injury.   
  
"Yeah all right," answered LeBeau.  They left hurriedly, anxious for any news on what was happening in Hammelburg.  
  
As Newkirk and LeBeau exited the Kommandant's bedroom, they noticed that Colonel Klink was sitting in his armchair. He seemed to be lost in thought. So much so that he didn't even notice Newkirk and LeBeau as they exited his quarters.    
  
**_But a few minutes later…  
_**  
Colonel Klink looked up from his thoughts as a group of six POWs, as well as Sergeants Schultz and Carter entered into his quarters. "Blood donors are here as ordered, sir," said Schultz.   
  
Without waiting for Klink to respond, Carter immediately reported to Kinch about the donors.  Sergeant Wilson asked them to stand-by.  Klink suddenly stood and ordered Schultz and Private Neuberg to accompany him to his office, while he indicated to Carter that the POWs should remain in his sitting room and wait for the doctor to arrive.  
  
Kommandant Klink entered his outer office, followed by his two men.  He started into his own office only to halt when he remembered that Hogan's blood was still spattered there.  He closed the office door and turned away. He couldn't bring himself to enter that room.  Facing his men he began to speak, "You are not to mention to anyone what you witnessed here tonight.  All that officially happened is that Major Hochstetter arrived, questioned Colonel Hogan, and then he left after receiving word of the fire at his headquarters.  Therefore, his allegations against Colonel Hogan remain unsubstantiated.  Hogan and two others escaped, there is no denying that.  They are still here in camp; therefore it was an unsuccessful escape attempt.  The record of the camp stands… there has never been a successful escape from Stalag 13.  That is all that has happened here tonight."  
  
"But, but, Herr Kommandant!"  Schultz protested.  
  
"But nothing, Sergeant.  That is all that I want you both to remember about this night," Klink ordered, meeting both men's eyes intently.  
  
"Jawohl, Herr Kommandant," Schultz replied, nodding vigorously.    
  
Klink continued his orders, "Private. You are to remain on guard in my quarters while the prisoners are there.  Schultz, go to the front gate and await Doctor Freiling.  Once the doctor is settled, I wish to speak with Sergeant Kinchloe. Bring him here."  
  
"Jawohl," Schultz acknowledged, and followed the Private outside.  
  
Klink sat back in his clerk's chair lost in thought about how his world had just been turned on its ear.  Colonel Hogan almost beaten to death in front of his eyes. He, himself, certainly not long for this world if Hochstetter returns to fulfill his threat.  He hoped that Hochstetter would be too busy to return anytime soon, giving him time to work out some plan, as he was sure Hochstetter did not feel threatened by his earlier posturing.  He just hoped that Colonel Hogan would recover. It would help to restore normalcy to his POW camp.  
  
**Luft Stalag 13, Outside Front Gates,   
April 2, 1945, 0230 Hours  
**  
Doctor Oskar Freiling, an older man with a small private practice in Hammelburg, arrived at the gates of Stalag 13.  Colonel Klink had called for him, informing him that one of the prisoners needed his services, but Sergeant Baker had contacted him via his short wave and had informed him that Colonel Hogan was the one who needed his help.  Freiling had dropped everything, packed the few medical supplies he had on hand, and had driven to Stalag 13 immediately.    
  
Doc Freiling had retired from his practice prior to the beginning of the war, but once war had broken out, he felt that he had to practice medicine again, as doctors were in such high demand.  But from the beginning he had not felt comfortable with Hitler's policies and had begun to sympathize with the underground, soon becoming an active member.    
  
As the doctor reached the closed barbed wire gates of the prison camp, he leaned out his window to request entrance to the camp.  Sergeant Schultz had been waiting for him there and immediately had the gate guards admit the doctor's car. He directed the doctor to stop in front of Kommandant Klink's quarters saying, "Your patient is Colonel Hogan, the Senior POW Officer.  The Colonel is in the Kommandant quarters, this way."  
  
The doctor, having retrieved his bag from the seat beside him, hurried into the Kommandant's quarters. He was somewhat surprised at the amount of people there. Before he could think too much about it, Sergeant Wilson approached, saying, "Doctor, this way please. Colonel Hogan is critically wounded."   
  
Doc Freiling hurried into the bedroom followed by Schultz. He barely spared Kinch a look, his attention being riveted to Colonel Hogan.  His eyes were quickly cataloging the injuries he could see while he demanded of the medic, "What's his condition, Sergeant?"  The two men had worked together a few times before, once almost two years back, over a seriously wounded flyer.  Happily that flyer had made a nice recovery and Hogan had sent him back to England along with three other members of the man's squadron. And the doctor had been impressed with Wilson's abilities on each occasion.  
  
As Sergeant Wilson answered the doctor, Schultz motioned for Kinch to follow him.  Kinch got up quietly, giving Hogan's still form a long look before he followed Schultz from the room.  Kinch closed the door before he turned to Schultz.  "What's up, Schultz?"  
  
"The Kommandant would like to speak with you," Schultz replied.  
  
Kinch exchanged a look with Carter at that news and followed Schultz.  Kinch entered the outer office where Klink sat behind the clerk's desk.  "You wanted to see me, Kommandant Klink?"  
  
"Yes.  As you are the closest prisoner in camp to Colonel Hogan, I would like you to answer a few questions for me," Klink began.  "I am fully aware that Colonel Hogan and two other prisoners escaped from Stalag 13 last night.  I am prepared to keep all prisoners confined until I locate the escape route used.  The guards will begin their search at dawn. The search will continue until an escape route is found.  However, if you would like to tell me how they got out of camp, I will not attempt to discover the identities of the other two men, nor will I conduct a search.  I will also rescind the confinement orders.  The decision is up to you."  
  
Kinch was surprised how Klink's demeanor had changed over the course of the night.  He actually thought that this Klink could locate what he was looking for, and perhaps even more.  He knew that Hogan had intended to give up the sliding fence on the south side, so he thought it best to continue with that plan.  "All right Kommandant. You've won.  There is little point in denying it.  The fence between guard towers six and seven slides up about three feet, easily allowing a man to pass under."  
  
"Why would Colonel Hogan escape now Sergeant, after all of this time?"  Klink asked, genuinely curious.  
  
Kinch thought furiously for a moment, "One of the prisoners had received terrible news from home.  All he could think of was being there for his family.  He escaped.  Colonel Hogan, with the help of another prisoner, followed trying to talk him into returning to camp, before he got hurt.  Unfortunately it was the Colonel who got hurt.  Both prisoners decided to bring the Colonel back here as it was the only place, they could think of, to care for his injuries."  
  
"Oh.  I understand," replied Klink unsure of what to believe. His mind was telling him that the excuse given by Sergeant Kinchloe was a complete crock, but his heart was telling him to accept the excuse and move on. Especially since his greatest desire, at this moment, was to have the camp return to its normal routine. He turned towards Schultz. "Schultz, escort Sergeant Kinchloe back to my quarters, then have some of your men repair that fence.  Immediately."   
  
"Jawohl, Herr Kommandant," replied Schultz.  
  
"Thank you, Colonel," Kinch said, saluting the German Colonel before he turned and hurried back to check on Colonel Hogan. Schultz followed him closely. As Kinch entered the Kommandant's quarters, along with Schultz… LeBeau, Carter and Newkirk looked at him curiously.    
  
"What happened?"  Newkirk demanded.  
  
"I'm sorry.  Kommandant Klink gave me no choice.  He knows about the fence," Kinch replied guiltily looking towards Schultz.  
  
"I guess you did what you had to do, mate," Newkirk said reluctantly.  LeBeau and Carter nodded in agreement. The four men then resumed their vigil and Schultz left to get some men working to fix the fence.  
  
**_Time went by slowly…  
_**  
Kinch and the others, along with the various blood donors, were waiting for any news of the Colonel's condition. One by one though, the donors came and went, with nothing forthcoming from either Wilson or the doctor. The donors had been left in the dark as well. All they could say was that the two men were working non-stop on the Colonel, barely saying a word to each donor.   
  
**_Only the occasional visit from Sergeant Schultz broke into the long silences…  
_**  
Roll call had also come and gone with every prisoner involved in Colonel Hogan's care being excused. Schultz had come by after roll call was over, to tell them that Colonel Klink had informed the entire camp of Colonel Hogan's injuries, and had rescinded the confinement orders. The guards were also released from double duty shifts as well.  The rest of the prisoners had taken the news about Hogan's injuries better than Schultz had expected, almost like they had already known more about it then he did.    
  
**_At 0630 Hours…  
_**  
Kinch, LeBeau, Carter, and Newkirk were the only POWs left in the Kommandant's quarters and Schultz had replaced the guard.  Doc Freiling and Sergeant Wilson finally came out from the Kommandant's bedroom. The Colonel had needed all 6 pints of blood during the procedure.   
  
"Your Colonel Hogan is in very bad shape," Doctor Freiling began.  "I was not fully equipped to deal with all his injuries. I wanted that said up front. As it stands, he may still die. Infection will be the biggest worry. I was only able to supply your medic here, with a small amount of penicillin. It will have to do. Medical supplies are in very short supply right now, some can not be had at any cost."   
  
When Kinch nodded his understanding, Freiling continued. "As for Colonel Hogan's injuries, his head injury consists of contusions and fractures in the eye socket, as well as the cheekbone on the right side of his face. He has considerable swelling behind his right eye. If he survives, he could experience some vision problems, either temporary or permanent; I'm not sure which. He will experience severe headaches and dizzy spells until the swelling subsides.  There may be some brain damage as well, but that will have to be assessed after he regains consciousness."  
  
Freiling paused, taking a deep breath, and then continued.  "He has a wound clean through the abdomen, 5 broken ribs, and a punctured lung on his left side.  The lining of his stomach was also ruptured in a few places. I was able to stop the bleeding, but I had to leave drains in all the wounds.  That's the best I can do. Hopefully, your Colonel Hogan is a fighter; he'll have to be to survive," finished the doctor. He had hoped he could have sounded more comforting to Hogan's men, but upon seeing the German Sergeant, he decided to play it very formally.  
  
"Doctor, can we see him?" Kinch asked offering a brief prayer as the doctor cataloged the Colonel's injuries.  
  
"Yes. One at a time," replied the doctor. "I assume you will be first, since you asked? Follow me."  
  
The doctor and Kinch entered the bedroom.  Kinch took a minute to check on Hogan. Hogan was still unconscious on the bed, though Kinch thought he looked a lot more at peace than four hours ago. "Okay Doc, what's happening in Hammelburg?"   
  
"Kinch, I was informed that the underground was successful in retrieving a lot of items taken by Hochstetter's little extortion ring. Some stuff was lost of course, as we didn't want it to look like a robbery. The building is a complete shambles though. Very many Gestapo lost their lives in the building's collapse and fire. There were no casualties among the underground. And you can be assured that Major Hochstetter will never again be a thorn in Colonel Hogan's side. He and his men were to be ambushed on their way back to Hammelburg.  I was assured, there would be no one left alive," reported Doc Freiling.   
  
Kinch sounding a little panicked said, "The plan, as I remember it, did not include an ambush of Hochstetter's vehicle!?"  
  
"The underground hoped that it would be an added benefit, and an additional thank you to Colonel Hogan.  We all owe him a great deal, and if we could protect him in any way, you know that we are willing to do it," answered the doctor. "While I don't generally condone the loss of life, in this case I cannot say that I minded too much.  The Gestapo consists mainly of soulless monsters -- and then to do what they did to the Colonel."  Freiling shook his head in horror.  "Things should never have been allowed to get this insane."  
  
Kinch shook his head.  "You know Doc, that's why we're fighting this war.  To put an end to the horrors that Hitler has done."  
  
"Ja.  Ja.  Germany will have much to answer for, once this madness is over with," replied the doctor.  
  
Before Kinch could reply, Newkirk peeked his head in and said, "Watch it, guys.  Schultz left to inform Klink of the Colonel's condition, and they are heading this way."  
  
"We're through, Newkirk," said Kinch, glancing back at the doctor, not knowing quite what to say. He certainly wouldn't miss Hochstetter, but the Colonel wouldn't be happy when he found out_. Make that, he's not going to be happy period, since I completely ignored his original orders._  "Okay, Doc," Kinch said finally.  
  
Kinch and Doctor Freiling left the bedroom, just as Colonel Klink entered his quarters. "Doctor Freiling, can you tell me Colonel Hogan's condition?"  
  
The doctor repeated his earlier statements but added, "Colonel Hogan should not be moved for a few days, his condition being very unstable at present. I will return tomorrow to check on him. He should have 24-hour supervision until he regains consciousness. If and when that happens, call me and I will return. I will want to do a thorough examination at that point, to determine if damage to his brain has occurred.  If that's all, I'll be leaving now."  
  
"Of course, Doctor, thank you for all your help," Klink began, but before he could continue, one of his men came rushing through the door.   
  
"Herr Kommandant, Herr Kommandant!" the guard said, rather panicked. "I just received word that Gestapo Headquarters was completely demolished. There were 50 men in the building at the time and all were killed.  Also the underground ambushed Major Hochstetter and his officers after leaving camp last night.  There were no survivors."  
  
Klink stared at his officer, somewhat dumbfounded. The other POWs were staring at Kinch in the same way. Kinch hadn't had a chance to tell them. They wanted to rejoice out loud, but one glance from Kinch kept them quiet. _That's all we need to do, get Klink pissed off.  
_  
Klink blinked once at the news, and dismissed the Private.  Once the guard was gone, he turned back to the doctor and continued like nothing had interrupted him, "Doctor. When do you expect Colonel Hogan to regain consciousness?"  
  
"I really can't say.  My best guess would be within 24 hours, but it could be longer than that.  He may never wake, but I don't expect that.  He appears to be in good health and physical condition.  That will work in his favor." Freiling was surprised at Klink's lack of reaction to the news of Hochstetter's untimely demise.  
  
"Thank you again for all your help, do you need assistance to your car?" Klink offered.  
  
"Nein, I'll just be on my way," Freiling replied, shaking his head.  He left the room without looking at anyone.  
  
Klink turned to Kinch. "You men will need to work out a schedule to keep an eye on Colonel Hogan. He can continue to stay where he is, but I will be using this area here for my sleeping quarters. You are to come up with a plan that includes not disturbing me."   
  
"Yes, sir," Kinch agreed.   
  
Klink left his quarters again feeling very confused. He was having trouble digesting everything. Hochstetter was dead, Gestapo Headquarters demolished, more than 60 Germans dead, and an injured POW in his bed. Somehow the picture wasn't right. He reached his office, which thankfully had been cleaned, and sat heavily in his chair. With Hochstetter dead there was now little danger from outside of the camp.  He could only hope that Hogan would recover and things could return to normal.  
  
**_Meanwhile…  
_**  
Kinch, LeBeau, Carter, and Newkirk had worked out a schedule for the day, with Wilson's help. They would each do a 6-hour shift. Wilson gave the group some rudimentary lessons on what they should keep an eye out for. He said he would keep checking in on a regular schedule. Basically they needed to keep an eye out for any major change in breathing or excessive discharge from the drains. LeBeau was to the first to begin his shift. The others returned to Barracks Two.  
  
**Earlier that Evening  
Hammelburg Road, leading from Luft Stalag 13 back into town,   
April 2, 1945, 0130 Hours  
**  
Ten members of the local underground had gathered near a small clearing 1.5 miles from Stalag 13.  They had been part of the group scheduled to sabotage Gestapo Headquarters in Hammelburg.  The building would be blown soon.  Most of the preparation work for that mission had been done.  The only people needed were those who were to retrieve all of the ill-gotten booty that Major Hochstetter had been stockpiling in the building.  They would retrieve as much as possible, but the idea was to make it seem that most of it went up with the building.  
  
Papa Bear had put this mission on hold, when a series of new orders had come from London.  They were just asked tonight by one of his men to continue with the plan.  It seemed that Major Hochstetter had been able to identify Colonel Hogan as a member of the underground and was heading to Stalag 13 to confront him.  Hochstetter's men had wounded Hogan in a skirmish earlier tonight and the Major would have him dead to rights.  Papa Bear's civilian operatives were to try to keep the German Major from getting to Stalag 13, but time had not been on their side.  Hochstetter had made it to Stalag 13.  For all they knew, Hogan may already be dead.  
  
They were then ordered to intercept Major Hochstetter's vehicles on their way back into town from Stalag 13.  The civilian underground leaders decided that Hochstetter and his men were to be assassinated for the, as yet, unknown injuries to Papa Bear, perhaps even his death.  And, in addition as well, for the past atrocities done to the people of Hammelburg in the name of Hitler.  Not many residents of Hammelburg and the surrounding countryside could say that Hochstetter hadn't committed some crime against their families.  This assassination order was something that neither Papa Bear nor his men were aware of.  The civilian leaders of the underground had taken it upon themselves. Besides, Papa Bear had done so much for them.  They felt they owed him.  
  
The moon was very bright this evening. Under normal conditions, that would be very dangerous, as their identities could be discovered. It would not matter this evening, though. Their plan was to ambush the vehicles along the quietest stretch of road. Word would get to the Major sometime soon after the bombing of his headquarters in town.  They were just going to have to wait for the right moment.  It was not until 0215 that they saw the headlights of two vehicles heading their way.  The ten men were scattered in the trees lining both sides of the road.  
  
As the cars approached, the men fired their weapons disabling the vehicles.  Both cars were riddled with bullets, killing some of the occupants instantly.  Both drivers had tried to react, but the vehicles collided, with one turning on its side, the other hitting a tree.  Immediately the underground converged on the vehicles, dragging the men from the cars and into the clearing. Shots were heard, as the underground made sure the few dead men in the vehicles, stayed dead. They wanted no surprises.   
  
Hochstetter was pushed to his knees and held there, as his men were lined up in the same fashion, only they were facing him.  Hochstetter was forced to watch as one man went down the line, methodically placing the muzzle of his pistol against the forehead of each man, and pulling the trigger.  The underground wanted each of the men to see the face of his executioner.  Each man had slumped forward, lying dead with his face in the dirt.  
  
Hochstetter had watched in horror and disgust as each one of his men was executed.  He had felt his whole body jump at each gunshot.  He knew he was to be next. As the shooter turned towards him, he panicked and tried to run.  The man who had been holding him in place did not try to stop him.  Hochstetter didn't get very far, before he heard a gunshot and felt pain tear through his left leg.  He crumpled to the ground.  Terror engulfed him and he again tried to run.  Another shot rang out.  This time he was hit in the right leg.  He fell face first into the dirt.  He continued to try to get away by clawing his way forward.  The man, who had held him before, came up and hauled him back to his knees.  
  
Hochstetter began frantically begging for his life, offering money and power to all.  The shooter advanced on him, slowly.  As he reached the Major, his only words were, "Colonel Hogan sends his regards." Then he slowly placed the gun to Hochstetter's forehead and pulled the trigger.  Major Wolfgang Hochstetter died his face showing a look of horrified disbelief.  He also slumped dead to the ground, face in the dirt.  
  
The bodies were left where they lay, as a silent testimony to final justice.  
  
**Luft Stalag 13, Barracks Two,   
April 2, 1945, 0700 Hours  
**  
Kinch had given a report to all team leaders about Hogan's condition, as well as the Gestapo Headquarters bombing and Hochstetter's death. Kinch also decided to let London know about their situation. London was concerned that the mission would have to be scrubbed. Kinch told them they were ready. Colonel Hogan had organized everything. The POWs would be ready when the time came. London offered to have Hogan transferred back to England or to send a medical supply drop. But after much discussion, they realized that either would bring unwanted attention to Stalag 13.   
  
_At this point in time, it would be too risky. Colonel Hogan would certainly not want them to take that risk for him.  
_  
Kinch headed back to his bunk, and looked at his watch, 0830 Hours. _My God, it hasn't even been twelve hours since the Colonel was first shot._ Kinch's own 6-hour shift with the Colonel didn't start until 0100 Hours. LeBeau, Newkirk and Carter had the first three 6-hour shifts. He decided to get some sleep, knowing that he would have to deal with being the one "in-charge" when he awoke. _What a night. C'mon Colonel, come back to us. I never expected to take this job from you.   
_  
**_Kinch slowly drifted off to sleep…  
_**  
And was awakened at 1300 Hours, when LeBeau and Wilson had returned from the first shift. They reported that Hogan was pretty much the same. He had not regained consciousness, but Wilson assured Kinch that, this was not uncommon with his type of injuries. The fact that the Colonel had remained stable was a good sign.   
  
"Thanks guys, now get some sleep," said Kinch.  
  
Not able to got back to sleep, Kinch got up and after a cup of coffee headed for a tour of the camp. He had to show the other prisoners that he had this situation under control. He checked in with team leaders as he met them in the compound. Everyone was worried about Colonel Hogan, but all the mission plans were moving ahead. He had assigned Baker to radio duty, as it was almost time to start monitoring the radio on a 24-hour basis. Word could come at any minute.   
  
Kinch returned to Barracks Two, feeling better after his rounds. He had been really worried that the men wouldn't want to follow his orders, but that didn't seem to be an issue.  
  
**Luft Stalag 13, Kommandant's Quarters,   
April 4, 1945, 0100 Hours  
**  
Wilson had been checking in on Hogan at each change of shift. He was worried, as he had given Hogan the last of the penicillin earlier in the day, hoping that it would be enough to head off any infection.  Carter had reported to him, at the end of his second shift, that the Colonel, while not conscious, seemed very restless. So, Wilson decided to stay with Kinch for his shift. _The restlessness could be the Colonel's body telling his brain that something was wrong. It is a good sign; it means that he might be ready to come around._ _Kinch and I will just have to be ready.  
_  
Wilson, still worried about the Colonel becoming conscious, shared his thoughts with Kinch.  "Most patients would be on a lot of pain medication, Kinch, so the process wouldn't be painful. The fact that the Colonel has not been on any means that as soon as awareness comes, so will the sensation of pain, then panic. We don't want the Colonel waking in a panic. Please talk to him Kinch, tell him what's been going on. Give him something to focus on, but be ready to hold him down. We don't want him to further injure himself."  
  
Kinch just nodded, and both men continued their vigil in silence.  
  
**_After a couple of hours, Hogan did come around…  
_**  
Kinch clearly saw when awareness dawned across Hogan's face, and then watched as almost immediately the pain set in. As the panic began to show in his friend's eyes, Kinch began talking softly until Hogan's eyes finally connected with Kinch's. Even through the pain though, Kinch could see the Colonel relax.   
  
It was when the Colonel tried to get up, that Kinch put a light hand on his chest and continued saying, "No you don't, Colonel." The light pressure was enough to keep Hogan from moving.   
  
"Did you get the license plate number of the truck?" asked Hogan hoarsely through clenched teeth.  Now fully awake all Hogan knew was pain.  
  
"You mean the one that hit you?" answered Kinch with a concerned grin.  
  
"Yeah, that one," replied Hogan to finish the old joke.   
  
"As a matter of fact, we did," replied Kinch, moving uncomfortably in his chair.  He didn't want to tell Hogan what had been done for him.  He knew that the Colonel was not going to take the news well.  
  
"Kinch, I need to examine Colonel Hogan.  Will you contact the doctor?" Wilson asked.  
  
"Sure," Kinch replied, relieved that the conversation on what has been happening would be delayed.  
  
Wilson did a thorough examination, telling the Colonel about the extent of his injuries and that there was no pain medication available. He made sure that Hogan knew that he'd already received the last of the antibiotics and explained that he would need to stay quiet, no getting up for a few more days.  "You are still very sick, Colonel. Please don't push yourself, okay?" asked Wilson.  
  
"Are you trying to boss your commanding officer around Sergeant?" threatened Hogan, with as much of sheepish grin as he could muster.  Wilson returned as stern a look as possible. "You win Sergeant, I'm no going anywhere," Hogan said with a soft sigh and closed his eyes, as even that little bit of exertion was enough to tire him out.   
  
Kinch returned after asking Schultz to call the doctor and making sure that Freiling was on his way. Kinch looked worriedly at Wilson when he noticed that Hogan had his eyes closed. Wilson assured him that their commanding officer was just sleeping.   
  
_Things are looking better,_ thought Kinch.  
  
**Luft Stalag 13, Kommandant's Quarters,   
April 4, 1945, 0330 Hours  
**  
Colonel Klink was awakened when he heard all the commotion is his bedroom. The prisoners had been exiting and entering through the bedroom windows during the evening hours, as not to disturb him. Tonight though, Schultz came into his quarters with the doctor.    
  
"Is everything all right?" Klink asked, sitting up on the couch and letting the blanket that had been covering him fall around his waist.  
  
"Colonel Hogan has regained consciousness and I summoned the doctor, as he requested," Schultz informed the Kommandant as he watched the doctor enter the bedroom where Hogan was.  
  
"That's good, Schultz. Thank you," Klink said also turning to look as his bedroom door, lost in thought.  _So Hogan has regained consciousness.  It is a very hopeful sign.  
_  
Doc Freiling entered the sick room and moved directly to Hogan's bedside, only to see that his patient's eyes were closed. He looked questioningly at the medic.  
  
"Colonel Hogan is merely sleeping," Wilson said noticing the Doc's frown.  "He's woken, only to fall asleep again.  He can't seem to stay awake."  
  
"It's the head wound.  Your Colonel has got a nasty concussion on top of his injuries.  It will make him feel fuzzy and he will doze off without any warning.  But the fact that he has awakened is good news," Freiling said before beginning to check his patient's pulse and temperature and carefully removing the bandages to clean and inspect each wound.    
  
Hogan woke again when Freiling was mostly through with his examination.   
  
"How are you feeling, Colonel?" Freiling asked.  
  
Hogan croaked something and then he cleared his throat to try again.  "Like I've been run over by a truck," he said.  
  
"I can imagine." Freiling went on to ask Hogan a variety of questions, designed to determine the state of his memory.  Finally he examined the American's battered face, especially the bruised, swollen right eye. Freiling blocked the good eye with his hand. "Can you see anything with your right eye, Colonel?"  
  
"It's blurry," Hogan said softly, his voice weakening. "Wilson mentioned that this could be permanent?"  
  
"I do not believe so, Colonel," Freiling replied, removing his hand.  "Your eye is still very swollen.  I would imagine it is still swollen inside as well.  I believe your vision will clear when the swelling goes down.  Your memory seems fine, with just some details of your interrogation being fuzzy.  That is normal as well. The details may never be clear to you.  I was concerned with memory function and motor functioning.  Your memory I would say is excellent, and later on I will assess your motor functioning.  I don't expect to find anything wrong there either.  You were very lucky, Colonel Hogan."  
  
"Yeah lucky," Hogan repeated tiredly.  He hurt everywhere; even breathing was painful and difficult.The broken ribs throbbed with each breath and the punctured lung labored to fill with air.  But he was still alive.  By all rights he knew he should be dead.   
  
Doc Freiling studied his patient for a moment, and then he continued with obvious reluctance.  "This next bit of news is disturbing, Colonel. Tomorrow, the three drains will have to be removed, and those wounds stitched closed.  Without anesthesia and pain medication, the process is going to be very painful."    
  
"Great," sighed Hogan. "Why don't we just do it now, Doc, I'm hurting as it is?"  
  
"Sorry to disappoint you, your wounds need another 24 hours to drain properly," Freiling replied. "Now go back to sleep."  
  
"Not now, Doctor, I need to get a status report from Kinch." He had held off asking until now, as Kinch seemed to be trying to hide something from him. He could usually tell. Hogan was truly worried that he had caved in to Hochstetter, but he couldn't really remember everything that happened. He had vague impressions in his mind of what did occur, but nothing concrete. And every time he tried to force his memory back to his interrogation his head pounded intolerably.    
  
_How can I face my men, if I have given away secrets?   
_  
Actually Hogan couldn't figure out why he wasn't dead.  The one thing he did remember was feeling the muzzle of a revolver being pressed to his head.  The thought sent shivers down his spine.  
  
"All right, Hogan.  Get your report. Then get some more rest.  Tomorrow isn't going to be pleasant." The doctor left the room to be immediately accosted by the two Germans who waited outside the room.  He repeated his report to them and then left the Stalag, not looking forward to his next trip back here.  
  
"Wilson, watch the door. All right, Kinch, what's going on?" demanded Hogan, with a surge of adrenaline. The pain dulled. He needed to know what happened.  
  
"Actually, Colonel, everything is under control. The mission is still on, plans are moving ahead. London has kept us up to date on the position of the Russian forces. They expect things to come together in a couple weeks. We are ready Colonel, you don't need to worry," Kinch replied reassuringly.  
  
"Okay. What aren't you telling me, Kinch?" Hogan said softly, his voice was not very strong but he was determined to get some answers. "My memory isn't real good right now, but I can't imagine Hochstetter letting me live. Neither can I believe that Klink wouldn't be turning this camp upside down for escape routes. I do seem to remember that he knew I had escaped. Did I cave in and tell them something I shouldn't have? I'm not sure how I would live with myself, if I did."  
  
"Oh, Colonel, you didn't do or say anything, believe me. You were tough," assured Kinch, but looked away from Hogan, knowing that he had betrayed Hogan's trust in him. "However, Colonel, a few things did happen. They seemed to all come together at once. First I want you to know that I disobeyed your last order about not interfering with Hochstetter. I decided that your orders referred to when Hochstetter was in camp. I decided that if I could stop him before he got to camp, I really wouldn't be going against your orders. So, I had the underground go ahead with the Gestapo Headquarters bombing. I was hoping to deflect Hochstetter before he got here."  
  
Kinch paused to assess Hogan's reaction. There was none, the Colonel had no expression on his face. "And," prompted Hogan.  
  
"And that didn't work, as you know. But word of the bombing came from Hammelburg during your interrogation in Klink's office. At that point Hochstetter said he was leaving. The next thing we heard was a gunshot, and Colonel Klink telling Hochstetter to leave his camp. Everything else was a haze, except for Klink calling a doctor and having you transferred here to his bedroom," continued Kinch. "We don't really know what happened in Klink's office, or how he forced Hochstetter's hand.  Everyone had cheered when Hochstetter said he was leaving. We missed the specifics of their altercation." Kinch paused in his explanation, hoping that maybe the Colonel could remember the specifics.  
  
Hogan realized Kinch was waiting for a response. All he could do was stare at the ceiling in silence, wondering if what he remembered could have been possible. _Klink disarming Hochstetter as the gun went off? Impossible.  Klink doesn't have the gumption to do such a thing. But, that's the only thing possible. I do seem to remember Klink holding a revolver.    
  
He saved my life.  Why?  
_  
Kinch noticed Hogan lost in thought and when no information was forthcoming, he continued, "I had asked the Kommandant what happened.  All he said was that Hochstetter did not prove his allegations that you were a member of the underground. Then Schultz came in and interrupted our conversation to report that all prisoners were accounted for.  Klink repeated the standard phrase about there never having been a successful escape from Stalag 13.  My assumption at the time was that he knew you escaped, and I expected him to haul me off for questioning. He just asked about your condition and left."  
  
"It wasn't until later that morning that Klink questioned me about the escape attempt. He even made a deal with me. I would supply the escape route and he would not pursue the other two prisoners that escaped with you. He asked me why you would have escaped after all this time. I had to come up with an excuse, quickly. I told him that one of the prisoners had received bad news from home and escaped. You followed him to get him to return to camp before he got hurt. Of course you were the one hurt, and were brought back to camp by the other two, as they had nowhere else to go. Klink seem to accept that without too much fuss and he has indeed kept his word, so far."  
  
"What happened with the bombing?" Hogan asked giving up trying to figure out what Klink was up to… because his head had now begun to pound in time with his heartbeat.  
  
"The underground was able to retrieve most of the cached loot that Hochstetter had hidden there. There were 50 Gestapo in the building at the time. All were killed. The building is in shambles. None of the underground were injured," reported Kinch.  
  
"Why hasn't Hochstetter returned? There's no way he would let Klink get away with kicking him out of camp.  Not to mention, he would want finish what he started," Hogan asked, raising a hand to massage his left temple.  He couldn't bear to touch the right side of his face.  It was just too sensitive right now.   
  
Kinch replied, "Sorry, Colonel, this wasn't part of the plan. But the underground ambushed Major Hochstetter's vehicles after they left Stalag 13 that night. Doc Freiling had informed us that no one survived the ambush."  
  
"Oh," said Hogan. This was too much to digest at once. The adrenaline rush ended and the pain returned 4-fold. His head was pounding, his stomach felt like it had twisted. Hogan wasn't sure if the additional pain was from the beating or from the news he had just listened to. His men had purposely killed over 50 people just to save his life. He'd always tried to keep personal feelings out of anything he had to do. There's no denying that he had ordered the death of many. _Too many._ Hogan justified it as his duty. He knew he would do it again, if it meant the end of Hitler's Third Reich. But he was not sure how he was going to deal with the knowledge that over 50 people had died to save the life of him personally. _This war needs to be over._ Hogan said nothing more, closed his eye and drifted off to sleep.   
  
Kinch and Wilson watched as Hogan lapsed into a long silence and dozed off. Under normal circumstances, Hogan would have torn into Kinch about not following orders. Right now, Kinch wasn't sure what was on the Colonel's mind. _I suppose he will tell me when he's ready.   
_  
**Luft Stalag 13, Kommandant's Quarters,   
April 5, 1945, 0800 Hours  
**  
Hogan opened his eyes when he became aware of more than just LeBeau's presence in the room.  LeBeau had been there since sometime early that morning, in fact he couldn't remember waking without someone being present.  Kinch, Carter, Newkirk and Wilson had come into his room along with Schultz and Doctor Freiling.  Hogan swallowed nervously, knowing the doctor had come back to remove the drains from his wounds and stitch them closed.  
  
"How are you feeling this morning, Colonel?" Doc Freiling asked, placing his hand on his patient's forehead to check on his temperature.  
  
"Better I think," Hogan replied.  "But that's not going to last is it?"  
  
"Nein.  I am sorry, Colonel Hogan," Freiling replied, sorrow and regret thick in his voice.  He didn't like what he was going to have to do. "I'm going to explain to you what I've already told your men.  It's very important that you do not move. We need to restrain your arms and legs. First we will handcuff each limb to the bed, and then each one of your men will also physically restrain a limb. You will also have something in your mouth to bite down on. I need to re-open the wounds to remove the drains and stitch each one closed. I know this is going to be very painful, I will try to do it as fast as possible."  
  
"Do what you have to do," Hogan said taking a deep breath to settle his nerves.  He began to cough convulsively.  _Damn it, that deep breath was a mistake._  He'd forgotten his broken ribs and punctured lung.  Tears welled in his eyes and the pain that had been a dull background ache blossomed fully again.  
  
"Easy Colonel.  Don't fight it so," Freiling encouraged, placing his hand on Hogan's chest trying to ease his patient's breathing.  
  
Hogan nodded, closing his eyes.  When he was breathing easily again he allowed himself to be handcuffed to the bed.  He felt his men take a hold, each to a limb.  He bit down hard on the object in his mouth as the doctor made the first incision. The pain was excruciating. His mind was uncomprehending as the doctor continued. He could feel his whole body trembling. Mercifully he passed out before Freiling had finished with the second drain.  
  
**_30 minutes later…  
_**  
 "That's done," Freiling said after re-stitching the third wound. He motioned for Schultz to remove his patient's restraints. "Hopefully no infection will set in.  I will return tomorrow morning. If Colonel Hogan has regained consciousness, he can be removed from here and placed in his own quarters."  
  
"Do you think he will be unconscious long this time?" Wilson asked straightening Hogan's covers.  
  
"Nein.  I expect no more than a few hours.  It would be kinder if it could be longer, but I don't expect it.  He's strong, and a fighter.  He won't let himself be out for any more than absolutely necessary," Freiling replied, gathering his tools together and re-packing his medical bag.  
  
Kinch pulled the chair closer to Hogan's bedside.  He wasn't planning on moving, until Hogan woke again.  Holding Hogan's right arm flat against the bed while the Doc did what he was doing had been a nightmare.  Even as weak as the Colonel was, it had been very hard to hold him down.  If it wasn't for the restraints that the Doc had insisted on, they wouldn't have been able to hold him.  Kinch hoped never to be part of anything so horrible again.  The pain that Hogan had experienced went beyond anything Kinch would wish upon an enemy, and to see it inflicted on a man that he admired so much and considered one of his closest friends was simply more than Kinch wanted to face.  
  
**_After almost six hours…  
_**  
Hogan fought his way towards the light again.  Moaning softly, he tossed and turned restlessly on the bed.   
  
"Easy Colonel," Kinch soothed.   
  
"Kinch?" Hogan sighed.  
  
"Right here Colonel," Kinch replied touching Hogan on the upper arm to reassure the other of his presence.  
  
"Good," Hogan sighed moving his head restlessly on the pillow. "God everything hurts."    
  
"I know.  I know. Take it easy Colonel," Kinch replied wiping Hogan's face with a soft cloth, damp with cool water.  It was all he could offer the Colonel.  There was no medication of any kind available now. "You're through the toughest part. It's all downhill from here. Just rest now."   
  
Hogan easily drifted off to a restless sleep, sleeping most of the day and into the night, while his men continued their 24-hour vigil.  
  
**Luft Stalag 13, Kommandant's Quarters,   
April 6, 1945, 0130 Hours**  
  
Kommandant Klink woke suddenly when he heard a noise from his bedroom.  It had sounded like something has fallen.  _Perhaps Colonel Hogan has fallen from the bed? _ If it was nothing, he could return to sleep.  If it had indeed been Hogan he would be in extreme pain, and probably be unable to rise. _LeBeau? Yes it would be LeBeau with him now. He may need my help._  Klink silently pushed open his bedroom door, seeing the bed in the sparse moonlight coming in through the window.  _The bed's empty!_  He immediately turned on the light and saw Hogan crumpled to the floor three strides from the bed.   
  
"Colonel Hogan!"  Klink said crouching besides the wounded man.  "What are you doing out of bed?"  
  
LeBeau panicked as he returned from the bathroom, "I was just gone for a minute. Mon Colonel, I'm so sorry!!"  
  
Hogan moaned, turning his head towards LeBeau's voice.  "Water," he mumbled, his pale face drenched in sweat, and the clean bandage on his face spotted through with fresh blood.  The fall had aggravated that wound and probably his others as well.  
  
"LeBeau, let me help you get the Colonel back to the bed," Klink offered.    
  
He and LeBeau carefully picked Hogan up from the floor and half-carried him back to the bed.  When Hogan was lying prone once again, his breath coming in painful gasps, LeBeau bathed Hogan's face with the cloth left for the purpose. Klink went to get a glass of water from the bathroom, which he then gave to Hogan. When Hogan was as comfortable as they could make him, Klink went to leave the room.    
  
"Colonel Klink," Hogan said softly from the bed.    
  
"Yes?" Klink replied, turning back to the wounded man, meeting his eyes for the first time since he had regained consciousness.  
  
"Thank you," Hogan said. "For what it's worth, I owe you my life."  
  
"You owe me nothing, Colonel Hogan. Your head wound must have you confused," Klink replied.  "You owe me nothing at all."  Klink turned and exited the room quickly. Klink had hoped Hogan wouldn't remember what happened in his office. He certainly didn't want too.  
  
Hogan stared at the closed bedroom door a long time after Klink had left.  _Klink is reacting to this whole thing very strangely.  
_  
**Luft Stalag 13, Kommandant's Quarters,   
April 6, 1945, 1330 Hours  
**  
Hogan lay as still as possible on the bed, thinking that if he could just lie there quietly that the pain would fade into the background ache it had been before Newkirk had propped him up to feed him some soup.  He had been so weak that Newkirk had needed to spoon-feed him.  Newkirk had just left to bring the tray back to the kitchen.  Hogan hadn't been alone for more than five minutes, when the doorway opened to admit Kinch.    
  
"How are you doing today, Colonel?" Kinch asked seating himself in the chair that Newkirk had just vacated.  Newkirk had given his update to Kinch in the outer room before Kinch began his shift.  Kinch knew that Hogan had only been able to eat a few mouthfuls before it was impossible for him to sit up any longer.  
  
"I was doing ok until Newkirk thought it was lunch time," Hogan replied, his body still tense on the bed.  "So what's been happening in the outside world?" he asked more to keep his mind occupied than for any real desire to know.  
  
"Things are proceeding, Colonel," Kinch replied.  "Doc Freiling is on his way here from town.  He expects that you'll be able to be moved back to the barracks this afternoon."  
  
"Oh swell.  I can hardly wait," Hogan said sarcastically. _Any move is going to hurt like hell.  Though it's probably better to get me out of here.  Klink can have his quarters back and we can talk more freely.  
_  
Kinch smiled sympathetically, "Is there anything I can do for you in the meantime?"  
  
"No.  I guess not," Hogan replied with a sigh. Most of the time, the pain was merely in the background, present but not overwhelming.  Any movement though, had the pain flare bright and hot within him, leaving him gasping for breath and praying for it to end.  
  
"Try to get some rest, Colonel.  I'll be right here if you need anything," Kinch said leaning back in his chair.  He watched, satisfied, as the Colonel's eyes drifted closed.  The six-hour shifts that they maintained were harder now; the Colonel was awake most of the time.  Hogan had always disliked being coddled and the constant vigil that they maintained was getting on his nerves.  LeBeau had reported when he finished his shift that the Colonel had tried to get up last night.  LeBeau had been momentarily out of the room and had returned to find Hogan crumpled to the floor and Colonel Klink trying to help.  The fall had shaken the Colonel's confidence, but Kinch seriously doubted that it would prevent Hogan from trying again.  
  
Most of two hours passed before the bedroom door opened admitting Doc Freiling, Wilson, Carter, Newkirk, LeBeau, and Schultz who was carrying a stretcher from the infirmary.    
  
"How is he doing this afternoon?" Freiling asked going directly to Hogan's bedside.  
  
"He is doing okay," Kinch replied.  "Newkirk was able to feed him lunch, just a little thin soup like you told us."  
  
"Excellent," Freiling replied, pleased with the news.  He began his examination and stopped when he found that several of the wounds had bled some during the night. Fingering the bandages he asked, "What happened?"  
  
"He fell from bed," Kinch admitted.  "He was only alone briefly, but he tried to get up."  
  
Freiling frowned reprimanding, "You were to stay with him always."  
  
"I had merely gone to the bathroom," LeBeau said from the sidelines.  "He was sleeping when I left the room, and I was not gone long at all."  
  
"Don't blame LeBeau, Doctor," Hogan said softly from the bed, after all of the people in the room, and the doctor's examination had woken him.  "I was trying to get a drink of water, but I dropped the glass.  I got up to get some more.  I didn't expect to be so damned weak."  
  
"Well you are," Freiling told his patient, glaring at him.  "Kindly do not attempt to get up again, you will rip open all of your stitches that your friendly doctor so kindly put into you to keep you from bleeding to death!"  
  
"I'll try to remember that," Hogan replied dryly. "So am I to be moved today?"  
  
"Yes.  Even though you aggravated your injuries, there is no reason not to move you," Freiling replied, gesturing for the others to spread out around the Colonel's bed.  When the stretcher was positioned, he continued, "Now, Colonel,  you are not to do anything.  We will do all of the work.  Understand?"  
  
"Okay," Hogan replied with a sigh.  He felt himself being lifted and set his jaw to avoid calling out in pain. Before long he was positioned on the stretcher.    
  
"Okay, Colonel?" Freiling asked, checking on him.  
  
Hogan nodded once, sharply.  All of his concentration was focused on controlling his pain.  
  
Kinch and Newkirk each grabbed an end of the stretcher and carried him from Klink's bedroom where he had lain for the past five days.  As they carried him across the prison compound he became aware of how crowded the compound was.  It looked like every man in camp was standing there, to watch him be transferred from Klink's quarters to his own.  As he was carried past, each group of men saluted him, showing their respect.    
  
Hogan was embarrassed as they carried him into Barracks Two. But soon the transfer was complete and Hogan was placed on the bottom bunk.    
  
Freiling again examined him and then said, "Good that went very well.  I will return in four more days to remove your stitches, Colonel.  Do not hesitate to call me back here again should need arise. Auf Wiedersehen."   
  
**Luft Stalag 13, Kommandant's Office,   
April 6, 1945, 1530 Hours  
**  
Colonel Klink stood at his office window.  The front gate had called not too long ago to report that Doctor Freiling had returned to camp.  Hogan was to be moved from his quarters to the barracks.  Klink had decided that he still wanted to maintain some distance between Hogan and himself and was going to observe the transfer from here.    
  
With astonishment he watched, as what seemed to be every prisoner in the camp, crowded into the compound, apparently to watch Hogan be moved.  The men formed into ranks and stood quietly waiting.  Klink noticed that the guards were standing around looking very uncomfortable.  It was obvious that they didn't have the slightest clue what was going on.    
  
The two men who were carrying Hogan on the stretcher came into view then.  Kinch and Newkirk were doing the honors, followed closely by LeBeau, Carter with Doctor Freiling and Schultz bringing up the rear.  As the procession passed each rank, the prisoners saluted their commander.  Klink stood with his mouth open absolutely amazed.  Never had he seen such a spontaneous display of respect given to any officer.  Hogan was obviously a very popular commander, especially for only being the Senior Officer in a prison camp.  
  
Klink stood at his window a long time after the procession carrying Hogan had disappeared into Barracks Two.  He had watched the other prisoners in camp disperse, all moving urgently away as if they had a pressing task to complete.  It was almost like they had interrupted something important to show Hogan their respect, but then had to immediately return to what they had been doing. When Klink saw Schultz and Doctor Freiling leave Barracks Two he turned and sat again at his desk.  
  
**_Shortly thereafter…  
_**  
Schultz was standing in front of his desk.  "Herr Kommandant, Colonel Hogan has been transferred from your quarters to his own.  The doctor reports that the Colonel is in satisfactory condition and that he expects to be back in four days to remove the Colonel Hogan's stitches."  
  
"Thank you, Schultz," Klink replied. "Was there any problems with the other prisoners?  I noticed quite a crowd out there."  
  
"No, Herr Kommandant, they only wished to show their respect," Schultz replied.  
  
"That was quite a display of respect then," Klink said with an eyebrow raised in question.  
  
"Yes, sir.  Colonel Hogan has always commanded their loyalty and respect," Schultz assured his Kommandant.  
  
"Thank you, Schultz," Klink replied.  "Please keep me updated on Colonel Hogan's condition. You can assure him that he can miss as many roll calls as he needs to.  Dismissed."  
  
"Jawohl, Herr Kommandant," Schultz replied, saluting.  "Oh, sir, I have one of the prisoners cleaning your quarters."  
  
"Thank you Schultz," replied the Kommandant.  
  
Lost in thought, Klink barely watched Schultz leave the room.  He now knew that Hogan would recover, and hopefully things at Stalag 13 could return to normal.  _Though how normal can things be? If what I now think is true? It was such a coincidence that Hochstetter's headquarters was attacked and Hochstetter himself was ambushed and killed just when he accused Hogan of underground activity.  There have been far too many strange occurrences in and around this camp since Hogan was brought here.  I wonder now if Hochstetter was right?  And if he was, where does that leave me? A traitor?  A coward?  A fool?_  Wilhelm Klink didn't want to know the truth.  He hoped the war would end before he had to face it.  
  
**Luft Stalag 13, Colonel Hogan's Quarters,   
April 11, 1945, 1600 Hours  
**  
The last few days had gone by uneventfully. Kinch was completely on top of the mission plans and had been giving Hogan daily reports. It was now mostly a waiting game. Hogan's stitches had been removed, the process not being anywhere near as bad as the drain removal. His wounds had had enough time to heal and were now just a dull ache. The worst things were his broken bones and the severe bruising.  Hogan had noticed how even though his men had given up being in the same room with him 24 hours a day, they had been stationing themselves outside his door to keep away unwanted distractions. Hogan had decided to just use the time to get better. He trusted his men to take care of all the details.  
  
Hogan found that while he lay in his bunk healing though, his thoughts repeatedly turned toward Colonel Klink and his unusual actions since Hochstetter had arrived that night.  He now clearly remembered what had happened, though he had not told his men.  He remembered Hochstetter pressing the gun to his head. He had thought that it was the end.  In the next moment after the gun had fired, he found himself still alive and opened his eyes only to see that Klink was holding the revolver and ordering Hochstetter from the camp.  All very out of character for the Colonel Klink that he thought he knew.  Then Klink had merely repaired the fence that Kinch had given up, and had taken no further action against the prisoners.  Again out of character.  Hogan had to wonder what Klink was thinking.  
  
**Luft Stalag 13, Tunnel under Barrack Two,   
April 12, 1945, 2235 Hours  
**   
Hogan carefully lowered himself the final few rungs of the ladder, breathing a sigh of relief when he stood on the dirt floor of the tunnel.  He had grown tired of lying in his bunk.  Admittedly, he was still very stiff and sore, but felt recovered enough.  He was sure his men would not share that opinion, but regardless of that he decided to take a walk around below ground and see what was happening.  
  
Hogan watched Sergeant Matthews's team practice for a while. Sergeant Mathews was having his men 'practice' disarming and capturing men.  He had volunteers walk by, and his men would creep up behind and jump them.  Hogan had been amused. The men he had in camp were flyboys.  None of them, before coming to Stalag 13 as a prisoner, had any commando training.  Now he would wager any of them against any crack commando unit.  _They had learned because they had to. It is amazing what one can do when one's life is on the line.  
_  
Hogan continued on and eventually found himself near the newly dug passage that led to the motor pool, where he came across the men in Sergeant Marlow's crew.  They were industriously stacking materials, so it would be ready when the time came to load it onto trucks for the different sabotage teams to take.  
  
"Is anything wrong, Colonel?" Marlow asked coming up to his commanding officer from behind a stack of crates.  He was amazed but pleased to see the Colonel out and about.  
  
"No.  Nothing wrong.  Merely taking a walk," Hogan replied with a grin. "Carry on, Sergeant."  
  
"Yes, sir," replied Marlow.  "Are you sure that you do not need any help?"  
  
"I'm fine, Sergeant," Hogan said frustrated, and tired of being coddled. He continued on, leaving the surprised Sergeant in his wake. As he finished the full circuit of the main tunnel system and headed toward the radio room, LeBeau and Carter came running up from behind him.   
  
LeBeau said, speaking out of breath, "Colonel, are you all right? You shouldn't be out of bed! Let's us help you back to your quarters, sir." As LeBeau was talking, Carter started to take hold of Hogan's arm to help support him.  
  
Hogan shook Carter off. "I'm okay. Leave me be," he ordered adamantly. "I can make it back by myself. I'm going to check the radio room first. You guys must have something else to do, right?"  
  
"Yes, sir," they both replied, dejected, and quickly turned away, neither wanting to face the Colonel's wrath. So both men headed back to Barracks Two without further comment.   
  
Hogan entered the radio room to find Kinch there listening through the headset.  Things had been very quiet recently, with everyone merely waiting for the word to be given. _Perhaps this is it and all the waiting will be over._  
  
"What is it, Kinch?" Hogan asked, moving to stand before the table that Kinch had his radio set up on.  
  
Kinch held up a hand, still listening to his headset intently.  Kinch was frowning by the time he signed off.  "This just in, Colonel," Kinch said, ripping off the top sheet of paper on his pad.  
  
Hogan took the page and read it swiftly.  "Oh, God," he whispered softly. London had just informed them that President Roosevelt had died earlier that day.  
  
"That leaves Truman in command," Kinch said.  
  
"Let's hope he has the vision to see us through to the end," Hogan replied. "This won't affect us much, but I hope it doesn't slow down the approach of the American forces."    
  
"He's stuck with this war, just like we are," Kinch pointed out.  "He's got to be committed to following Roosevelt's plans through."  
  
"I hope so, but of course now when the armistice's signed, he'll get the credit for ending the war," Hogan said with an ironic grin. "Of course at this point I don't care whose signature is on the damned document, so long as it's signed!"  
  
"Amen to that," Kinch replied.  
  
Hogan sighed, "Pass the word and let the men know Roosevelt's gone.  Klink should find out the news tomorrow.  I'll get some sort of gathering approved for the recreation hall day after tomorrow."  
  
**Luft Stalag 13, Compound, Morning Roll Call,   
April 13, 1945, 0530 Hours  
**  
Hogan slowly followed the rest of his men out for his first roll call since his injuries.  After he had walked around the tunnel last night he was now very stiff and sore, but he was unwilling to go back to his bunk.  He would struggle through, hoping that each day movement would be easier.  For now, he just stood patiently while Schultz completed his count and reported to Klink.  
  
"All present and accounted for, Herr Kommandant," Schultz reported, saluting.  
  
"Very good, Schultz," Klink replied as his gaze focused on Colonel Hogan's spot in the line up.  _Well, Hogan has answered roll call this morning, so he must be feeling better._  "I see you've decided to join us again for roll call, Colonel."  
  
"I had nothing better to do this morning, Kommandant," Hogan replied, some of his previous personality surfacing, though it was an effort.  
  
"I'm glad your schedule has cleared, Colonel.  Dismissed," Klink turned and headed to his office.  
  
Hogan followed the rest of the men back into the barracks where he sat at the table, and accepted a cup of coffee from LeBeau.  The conversation in the barracks turned to Roosevelt's passing.  Roosevelt had been a popular President and would be missed.  The men were worried about what effect this would have on the ending of the war. Hogan could not offer them much comfort other than to say that hopefully with all the plans already in place all Truman would be able to do was to carry them through.    
  
The conversation quickly turned to baseball, though, when Schultz came into the room. "Colonel Hogan, Kommandant Klink would like to see you," Schultz announced.  
  
"Okay Schultz," Hogan said rising carefully as he slowly placed his cap on his head, and followed Schultz out of the barracks.  
  
**_Then upon entering the Kommandant's office…  
_**  
"You sent for me, Kommandant?" Hogan asked somewhat tenuously as he was uncertain of how Klink was going to react. Hopefully this summons would only deal with Roosevelt's death; anything else Hogan felt unprepared to deal with.  
  
"Yes.  Why don't you sit down, Colonel?" Klink offered.  "I have some disturbing news for you this morning.  I was listening to the morning radio broadcast and heard the report that your American President Roosevelt died yesterday."  
  
Hogan bowed his head briefly.  "Thank you for telling me, sir.  May I have your permission to hold a memorial service?"  
  
"Yes, certainly.  You may use the recreation hall," Klink replied.  
  
"Thank you, sir.  I'll have something ready tomorrow," Hogan said and then grew worried, as Klink delayed answering him.    
  
Finally Klink merely cleared his throat and dismissed him.  Hogan left Klink's office with relief, though he still didn't understand this new Colonel Klink.  The man was avoiding talking about what had happened that night, and Hogan had no idea why.  
  
**Luft Stalag 13, Tunnel under Barracks Two,   
April 16, 1945, 0700 Hours   
**  
Kinch pushed the earpiece firmer against his ear trying to counteract the static, even though in his heart of hearts he would never have mistaken this message.  _The day has finally come._  London just confirmed that the Czar's troops had engaged Berlin.  Kinch rapidly wrote the details down as they came in.  The Russians had spread out and were attacking Berlin from the East and North… exactly as Hogan had predicted, leaving the West and South open for retreating or fleeing Germans.  Kinch signed off. And then tearing off his headphones, he sprinted for the ladder leading up to the barracks.  He took the ladder two rungs at a time and vaulted over the bunk slats.    
  
"Whoa, mate.  What's the hurry?" Newkirk asked looking up from his card game with Carter.  The other men in the barracks were also watching Kinch with interest.   
  
Kinch waved the paper but couldn't help his broad grin as he continued towards Hogan's quarters.  He knocked on the door, and at the officer's soft come command, he entered.  Hogan looked better to Kinch's eyes, although he was still sporting bruises from his recent Gestapo encounter. But Kinch knew that the officer's wounds still gave him pain. There had been nothing any of them could do for the Colonel's wounds; no medicines were available, even in Wurzburg at the Hospital.  Time and Hogan's own natural healing abilities would have to do the rest. "Message from London, sir," Kinch said immediately.    
  
Hogan, who had been lying down, swung his legs around and sat up, reaching out to take Kinch's report.  Reading the report swiftly, he muttered, "Finally."  
  
Kinch grinned broadly in return, but said nothing.  
  
"All right, this is it," Hogan said rising, and wincing slightly, as his healing wounds pulled against the bandages.  He still tired easily now and suffered from horrendous headaches… a left over from his concussion.  And even though his wounds were healing now, he was still fairly weak.  "Pass the word.  I want to know of any problems.  Otherwise it's a go for tonight."  
  
"Yes, sir!" Kinch replied, preceding Hogan into the main barracks.  "It's a go, guys.  Tonight," Kinch announced.  "Those that are to carry the message to the rest of the camp, better get going."  
  
Five men, with wide grins of anticipation, immediately left the barracks, each going in a different direction.  They had even practiced this. The whole camp would know within four minutes that the word had been given.  Hogan was leaving nothing to chance.  There wasn't a man in camp that didn't have a job.    
  
**Luft Stalag 13, Barracks One,   
April 16, 1945, 2230 Hours  
**  
Sergeant Chris Matthews consulted his watch, counting down the seconds until his team could move out.  His stomach was in knots, but everything had been planned down to the last second, and it should work out splendidly.  Matthews's had been part of many missions prior to this one, so he wasn't unfamiliar with how Hogan ran a mission.  The men on his team had all been on at least one mission before, and they had practiced relentlessly in the tunnels below the camp.  His team was responsible for quietly taking out the compound guards.  He was sure that he and his team would fulfill their mission with no difficulties.  They had to have all fifteen out of commission when Sergeant Frank Tarlow's team, from Barracks Thirteen, created the diversion so that they could take out the off-duty guards in their barracks.  And Sergeant Ken Hart's team from Barracks Fourteen, were the snipers to be in place, ready at Hogan or Kinch's orders, to take out the tower guards.    
  
Although Hogan wanted a clean takeover and had ordered everyone not to hurt any of the guards, Matthews wasn't sure he agreed with the Colonel's orders. He didn't care one way or the other if some German soldiers were killed, but he would obey Hogan. Matthews was sure that order would have changed after Hogan's near brush with death at the Gestapo's hands, but Hogan had repeated the order to ensure that there would be no misunderstandings.  For some reason Hogan wished to protect the German guards in camp.  His men were armed, but their orders were to quietly take out the compound guards, the guns were in case something went wrong.  Matthews watched as his second hand ticked the last few seconds away.    
  
"Go!" he whispered at the men standing ready beside him. The men slipped from the barracks in well-rehearsed twos and threes going stealthily towards their unsuspecting targets.  
  
**Luft Stalag 13, German Non-Commissioned Officers' Quarters,   
April 16, 1945, 2235 Hours  
**  
Carter, LeBeau, and seven other men from their barracks entered the German NCO quarters.  Their job was to capture all of the other Germans in camp that were not on duty or in the guard's quarters.  At one time, there had been 15 men assigned quarters here, but now there was only Schultz and two others.  They had decided to simply go into the rooms, three to a guard, and startle the men awake.    
  
The teams of three men paused in the hallway, each team before their target door.  "Go!" LeBeau whispered, quietly opening the door to Schultz's room.  They crept toward the sleeping Schultz and positioned themselves as arranged.  LeBeau stood near the door, his job as back up.  Olsen poised his hand to cover Schultz's mouth to stifle any alarm, and Carter was to shake him awake.  At Olsen's nod, Carter woke Schultz.  
  
"Schultz. Schultz.  Wake up!" Carter said to the guard in a normal voice, shaking the sleeping man.  
  
"What, what?"  Schultz mumbled opening his eyes to a drawn and cocked gun.  Schultz woke fast after that.  "What is going on?" he asked, his eyes wide and staring at the gun pointed at his head.  
  
"The Colonel is taking over Stalag 13, Schultz," Carter said.  "We're here to make sure you don't make any trouble."  
  
"Trouble, what trouble?" Schultz protested, holding his arms out to the side in surrender.  "You must be joking, Carter. Up to more of your monkey business heh?"  
  
"No joke, Schultz," LeBeau replied, picking up Schultz's rifle.  "The Colonel has plans for the camp."  
  
"If Colonel Hogan wants the camp, he's welcome to it.  You know I am loyal to ANY ONE!  Most especially him!"  Schultz replied, giving in all at once.  He was a simple man, who enjoyed his wife and family, he didn't want to hurt a soul.  Even his civilian occupation reflected the inner man. As a toy maker, he sought to bring joy to the young and old alike.  Then war had come, and his factory was commandeered to make guns of all things, and Schultz had been drafted.  
  
Lucky for him he had been assigned to Stalag 13. Even though this assignment had had its unpleasant moments, he had always tried to treat the prisoners in his care with respect. They were in most cases young men who were very far from home.  They had reminded Schultz of his own young sons.    
  
The Kommandant had also attempted to treat the prisoners here with dignity.  The conditions here had always been good under Colonel Klink. Not like some of the other Stalag's Schultz had visited over the course of the war.  Then when Colonel Hogan had been brought here, suddenly the Stalag was a different place. The American Colonel ran the place with a wide smile, bolstering Klink's ego, when it suited his plans.  Even as Schultz looked the other way, all the crazy monkey business that went on here, had amused him.  
  
"We know Schultzie," LeBeau agreed.  "But we want to make sure."  
  
"Yeah. Yeah," Olsen agreed.  "Get dressed. We're to take you to Klink's quarters."  
  
**Luft Stalag 13, Compound, Between Mess Hall and Guards Barracks,   
April 16, 1945, 2245 Hours  
**  
Sergeant Frank Tarlow crouched next to Private Mills, in the deep shadows of the mess hall.  Ten feet and to the right of their position was the entrance to the guards quarters.  If things were going to plan, Corporals King and Santos were entering the guard's quarter's storeroom via the tunnel entrance.  In another five minutes they would be setting off their smoke bombs and retreating back the way they had entered the building.  They were to ensure that that tunnel entrance could not be used again.    
  
The plan was for the smoke to drive the guards out of the building. He and the rest of his men would meet them, and take them prisoner for a change.  The angle of the guard towers made this a relatively easy task.  No guard tower was able to fire directly on this building, it was a German forces building and did not have to be defended against.  The tower guards would know something had happened, the lights would be brought to bear, but they would be impotent to protect their fellow soldiers.    
  
After the guards were secured, his men were to conduct a thorough search of the building and remove anything that could be used as a weapon.  The former guards would be housed there, and it was his team's responsibility to ensure that they could not break out and cause future difficulties.  
  
As the seconds counted down, Mills nudged him and gestured to their left. Tarlow turned his head just in time to see one of Matthews's crew subdue one of the compound guards.  He hoped that Matthews and his men hadn't missed any even as the smoke began to waft out of the guard's barracks.  Tarlow whispered the order to be ready, and stood to meet the panicked guards.  
  
**Luft Stalag 13, Kommandant's Quarters,   
April 16, 1945, 2245 Hours  
**  
Newkirk melted into the shadows on Klink's porch as Hogan and Kinch entered the building.  His job was to watch their backs.  No one would enter Klink's quarters without going through him first.  
  
Kinch took up a position just behind the curtain between the hallway and the Kommandant's quarters.  Hogan wanted to confront Klink alone, but Klink was not to get by Kinch should something go wrong.  Hogan nodded at him and continued into Klink's private quarters.  It hadn't been too long since Klink had had him treated by Doctor Freiling in these rooms.  For almost five days he had been laid up in the Kommandant's bed, too weak to move, while Klink had slept on his couch.  Those five days had changed something in the relationship between the two men.  Just what the changes were Hogan couldn't quite put a finger on, but they were significant.  Klink had saved his life.  Hogan had no doubts about that.  _Hochstetter would have killed me.    
_  
Hogan had begun to see Klink in a different light, more of a glimpse of the man he could have been, if Hitler hadn't thrust Germany into a political and moral nightmare.  In turn, he believed Klink also saw him differently.  He had stopped his light-hearted, somewhat foolish, cowardly persona.  After Hochstetter, and in light of everything he must now accomplish, and on top of his injuries, Hogan discovered he hadn't the energy for his charade any longer.   
  
Hogan took a seat in the armchair with a direct line to Klink's bedroom.  Two weeks ago he would have definitely known what Klink was going to do when he came out and found him here. But now he was unsure, for Klink was apparently capable of much more than Hogan had ever given him credit for.  He consulted his watch.  He would have his answer soon.  Shortly the alarm should ring, triggered by the tower guards, at the apparent fire in the guards' quarters.  Klink would waken, and come out to demand what was going on.  Hogan need only wait.    
  
The alarm rang, only two minutes behind schedule.  Klink's new guards were not top-notch fighting men.  It took Klink another two minutes before he entered his sitting room.  Klink pulled up in his headlong rush to get outside to find out what was going on when he saw Hogan sitting there with a revolver.  
  
"Why don't you have a seat, Kommandant?"  Hogan said softly, his gun never wavering from the German Colonel.  
  
Klink sat on his couch, his expression turning from surprise to resignation.  "What is the meaning of this, Colonel Hogan?"   
  
"I am taking over Stalag 13.  You will find out, very soon, that all of your compound and off duty guards have been captured. The only guards not under my control will be the 12 tower guards. You will order them to surrender. Their fate is up to you."  
  
"And if I don't?" Klink asked exploring his options, trying to ignore the gun that Hogan still held on him.  Klink was surprised at this turn of events.  He had not expected Hogan to forcibly take control of the camp.  He certainly hadn't expected this move from his senior prisoner when Berlin was still in German hands.  Though he had no illusions that Germany would lose… the war was long from being over.  Klink had thought that he would eventually surrender to Hogan, but only when the Allied liberation of Stalag 13 was assured.  
  
"I have snipers in place, each with a clear shot at a tower guard.  I will kill them," Hogan replied his expression calm, meaning every word.  
  
Klink swallowed hard, reading Hogan's still battered face. There was no pretense there. Hogan would carry through with his threat, if he didn't comply.  The guards were either someone's grandfather or sixteen-year old son, drafted to fill uniforms when Germany became desperate for fighting men.  Klink wouldn't, couldn't condemn them to death over a few months' time.  "If I order them down, what happens then?" he asked quietly.  
  
"They and the rest of your guards will be held captive in the guards' quarters. They'll be comfortable enough.  If you surrender, I give you my word that I will protect you and them from the Allies when they arrive," Hogan replied.  
  
Klink was silent for a moment, studying his American counterpart.  Finally he asked, "Why should I believe you?"  
  
"Let's just say I owe you one, Kommandant, and leave it at that," Hogan replied, crossing his legs and striking a casual pose in his chair.  He wanted Klink to surrender without having to resort to bloodshed.  He'd had enough of that to last several life times and the war was still not over.  
  
Before the conversation could continue though, Kinch entered the room with Carter, LeBeau, Olsen, and Schultz.  "Everything is secure, Colonel. The snipers have taken their positions," Kinch reported.    
  
"Is that true, Schultz?" Klink asked before Hogan could say anything.  
  
"Jawohl, Herr Kommandant. I've seen it with my own eyes. The prisoners have taken the camp," Schultz confirmed.  
  
Klink turned back to Hogan, his head high.  He would surrender, but he would not be disheartened.  It was true Germany was losing, but he was sure Hogan would not take advantage of their sudden reversal of roles.  "You have me at a distinct disadvantage, sir.  The camp is yours, Colonel Hogan."  
  
"We're not finished yet, Kommandant." Hogan stood trying to mask the pain that movement brought him.  He was mostly recovered, but sudden movements could still bring him much discomfort.  Besides the severe bruising, the only thing that still plagued him seriously was his debilitating headaches.  Those had abated to the point where he was not constantly in the throes of one, but if he overextended himself and became overtired he was sure to have one. And they could still last for days.  "You still need to call down the tower guards, or I will fulfill my threat to you.  So if you please, Colonel."  
  
Klink stood as well and preceded Hogan from his quarters, leading the way to his office.  With a final disbelieving look at Hogan, Klink lifted the receiver to talk to all of the tower guards.    
  
Hogan stopped him by holding the receiver.  "Tell them to surrender and report here."  
  
Klink nodded and spoke into the handset, "Attention, attention.  This is Colonel Klink.  Colonel Hogan now has possession of Stalag 13.  You need to drop your weapons and surrender, and report to the Kommandant's office.  Macht Schnell."  
  
After several minutes Newkirk came into the office from his post on the porch.  "Nobody's come down, sir."  
  
"Kinch have Sergeant Hart's men fire a warning shot," Hogan ordered, meeting Klink's eyes squarely.  
  
"Yes, sir," Kinch acknowledged, relaying the message through the walkie-talkie he carried.  Almost instantly what sounded like a single shot rang out, but in reality it was the sound of twelve rifles being fired simultaneously.  All of the shots dug into the wood near each of the tower guards.  
  
Grudgingly the guards, one by one, climbed down and with their hands above their heads, converged on where Klink, Hogan and the rest of Hogan's team stood on the porch of the Kommandant's office.   
  
"That's all of them, Colonel," Newkirk said as the last man approached.  
  
"Carter, Newkirk.  Confine these 12 men with the rest of the guards, see that they're comfortable, will you?" Hogan ordered.  
  
"Yes, sir," Newkirk replied, leading the former guards to their quarters, which would now be their prison.  
  
Hogan and Kinch motioned for Schultz and Klink to reenter Klink's quarters.  The two men complied.    
  
"What happens now, Colonel?" Klink asked seating himself beside Schultz on the couch.  
  
"You and Schultz will have to remain as figureheads, unfortunately there is still a war on.  We must maintain the illusion that you still control this camp.  You will each have a personal guard, while many more of my men will dress the part as camp guards.  You will both be housed here in your quarters for the duration," Hogan told them.  
  
"Hogan, if I may ask you something?" Klink asked.  
  
"Yes, Kommandant?" Hogan replied, sure he knew what Klink's question was.  He would treat Klink, Schultz and his other German prisoners, with the same integrity that had been shown to them.  
  
"Why have you played your hand now?" asked Klink.  "The end of the war is in sight, true, but the surrounding area for over 100 miles in all directions is still under German control."  
  
Hogan was quiet for a moment, debating whether to tell the truth.  Somehow telling Klink lies, as easy as it had been in the past, was impossible now. Besides after all of this time he owed them both the truth. So he said, "Hochstetter was right, you know.  I am a member of the local underground, its leader in fact.  There is much work for us to do to aid in a quick, clean defeat of Hitler's Third Reich.  Maintaining this charade of being POWs was just too hard to do."  
  
Klink was silent, his expression unresponsive. His gaze slowly met Hogan's.   
  
Hogan was surprised by the man sitting in front of him. He had expected an outburst of some kind.  Suddenly he knew why Klink had been acting out of character. "How long have you known?" Hogan asked quietly, ignoring the surprised look on Kinch's face.    
  
Klink responded with a heavy sigh. "Not for long, though in retrospect, I should have known. When Hochstetter arrived, it took me by surprise. I just couldn't let him continue his tirade. He was on the verge of insanity and I was sure that he wouldn't stop with just your death. It seemed that that was what he wanted regardless of getting any answers to his questions. I was worried that if you died, your men would be next on his list. I just had to stop him. I had no plan beyond the moment. I just hoped he would leave."  He paused, looking forlornly at the floor. "It wasn't until I thought about what a coincidence the Gestapo Headquarter's bombing and Hochstetter's death was, that I came to the realization that you had more influence in this war than I could ever imagine."  
  
"Kommandant," said Hogan trying to get the German Colonel to look at him. "Then I owe you for more than my life. I will keep my promise to you. You and your men will be safe from the Allies when they arrive.  I just need to know I can count on you and your men, not to interfere with the things my men and I have to do now. But, you have to understand that I will do whatever I need to, if you and your men do not cooperate."  
  
Klink fidgeted a little on the couch.  Finally he began, "I understand, Colonel Hogan, but I want you to understand that throughout this war I have been ignoring many things I shouldn't have. It was much safer that way.  You know what the current Germany is like.  The Germany of my childhood is long gone, and what we have allowed Germany to become is not worth saving.  I did not see how one man could make much of a difference. So up until now I believed the only way to survive this war was to hide within myself, and the reputation of this camp."  Klink sighed again his expression one of regret.  "So I guess you can say I've made my choice, Colonel.  I will not interfere with your plans, whatever they may be."   
  
Hogan replied, "I want to accept your word, Kommandant, but I have to take precautions. What we have planned is too important.  You will both have a guard who will speak fluent German.  As for my men that are posing as camp guards, any of them in positions that could have outside contact, will also be fluent in German.  You should know, as well, that I am fluent in German.  Every normal camp activity will continue as before.  For all outward appearances nothing in the camp has changed.  Are we clear here?" Hogan asked.  
  
"Yes. Very clear, Colonel," Klink agreed.  "May I speak with my men to explain what has happened?"  
  
"Certainly.  I will accompany you.  And I expect that you conduct yourself appropriately and don't try anything foolish," Hogan replied.  
  
"Of course, Colonel," replied Klink.  
  
As Hogan gestured for Klink to precede him out of the Kommandant's quarters, he noticed that Schultz looked lost and scared. Hogan paused a moment, then he turned to Kinch ordering,  "Kinch escort Colonel Klink to Corporal Webber and have them go to the guards quarters.  I'll catch up.  Send in Corporal LaSalle for Schultz.  Then get on the horn to alert the underground that we're all secure here."  
  
"Yes, sir.  Kommandant, if you please," Kinch replied, leaving the room with Kommandant Klink.  
  
Hogan turned to Schultz, his expression soft. "Schultz, don't worry.  Everything will be okay.  You have always treated us very fairly.  You have nothing to fear from me.  I hope soon that I will be able to see you back with your family," Hogan told the former guard, hoping to convince Schultz of his sincerity.  _Of all the Germans I've met, poor Schultz is the most unlikely soldier. He should never have been taken away from his toy factory. That's where he belongs, not here.  
_  
"I hope so too, Colonel. Thank you," Schultz replied as Corporal LaSalle entered the room.  
  
Hogan left the room.  He had a lot to do, and not a lot of time left to accomplish it.  After he had met with Klink and the former guards, he had seen the Kommandant back to his quarters and headed immediately back to the barracks to get an update from Kinch.  
  
**Luft Stalag 13, Motor Pool,   
April 16, 1945 2300 Hours  
**  
Sergeant Marlow threw open the door to the tool shed so that his team would have easy access to the tunnel it concealed.  This was the last tunnel they had dug.  Below ground stacked in neat rows was the ammunition that each team of saboteurs would take with them.  His team's job was to load the trucks, in time for each sabotage mission.  Two trucks had to be ready to go in just under six hours.  Two men to a truck began a maintenance overhaul of each of both trucks to leave at 0600 the next morning.  It was their jobs to see that the trucks were in perfect working order, a full tank of gas, extra containers of gas and at least one spare tire.  The rest of his men began to carefully load the trucks with the supplies.  
  
**Luft Stalag 13, Barracks Two,   
April 17, 1945 0030 Hours  
**  
Hogan entered the empty barracks.  Everyone else had something to do, and here he was, alone, waiting for a report.  There were some barracks in camp that were still sleeping, but most of the camp was occupied.  He poured himself a cup of coffee, debating whether to go below or sit here to wait for Kinch.  Kinch solved the debate by climbing out of the tunnel.  Hogan sat with a silent sigh of relief, realizing that he was operating on pure adrenalin.  He knew that he was going to pay for all of this activity tomorrow… but for now he had too much to do.    
  
Hogan waited as Kinch sat down across the table from him. "Okay Kinch, I want to go over every detail. Let's start with the status of 'our' camp guards."  
  
"Yes, sir," Kinch agreed. "All of 'our' camp guards are in place. They have their uniforms, papers and weapons. A schedule has been worked out.  The changing of the guard will occur when it always did. Roll calls will be conducted, for our German guards to coincide with the regular POW scheduled roll calls. A perimeter fence is being constructed around the guard's barracks.  It should be finished by 0800 Hours. We will have 12 of 'our' guards stationed around that perimeter always. We also have five guards stationed around the Kommandant's quarters. There will be three shifts of personal guards for Klink and Schultz. They are never to be alone, per your orders."   
  
"Very good," Hogan said. "What's the status of the motor pool, do we have the six trucks?"  
  
"Corporals Joyce and Gentry have just left to retrieve the two additional trucks recently stolen and hidden in the woods. They are scheduled to return by 0230 Hours.  That gives us the six trucks. Sergeant Marlow will have the first two trucks at the front gate by 0500 Hours, they will be packed and ready to leave by 0600 Hours. He will then prepare the trucks retrieved by Joyce and Gentry. They should be ready and packed by 1200 Hours for Teams three and four who will leave at 1300 Hours. He will then continue packing the last two trucks, one that will be departing with team five at 1600 Hours. The last truck needs to be ready by 2200 Hours on the 19th for Team six. Sergeant Connors and Sergeant Holloway will take the two trucks, scheduled to be the last to leave, and will pick up family members of the underground. They will be leaving at 0230 Hours. They are expected back by 0500 Hours, which will give Sergeant Marlow plenty of time to get them ready," answered Kinch.  
  
"And you've contacted the underground?" asked Hogan  
  
"Yes, the local underground members who will be accompanying the teams are on their way and will report to their team leaders as soon as they arrive. They are expected no later than 0200 Hours. Their families will be at the pick-up sites at the appointed times.  They should be carrying with them their remaining foodstuffs and only essential personal effects," Kinch reported.   
  
"What's the condition of their living arrangements?" asked Hogan.  
  
"Lieutenant Taylor and men from Barracks Fifteen are remodeling the recreation hall to accommodate the families of the underground.  We're only expecting fifty civilians, including the members that will be accompanying our teams. They should easily fit in the Recreation Hall.  They should have all the beds ready by 0600 Hours. They will continue to work on the food storage and dining areas through the day. A perimeter fence is being constructed around the Recreation Hall. It should be finished by 0800 Hours as well. We will have 12 guards stationed around that perimeter. Of course, this is only for appearances, in case of unexpected visitors to camp," replied Kinch.  
  
"The men are aware that I expect them to treat the families of the underground with complete respect. Correct?" asked Hogan.  
  
"Yes, sir," agreed Kinch.  
  
"I'm aware that it's been a along time since most of these men have had female companionship. I don't want any incidents.  The men are to keep their hormones in check. Was that made clear to them?" Hogan asked.  
  
"Yes, sir. I made it very clear," repeated Kinch, and then he added, "There shouldn't a problem."  
  
"Do we have people sealing the tunnel entrances to where the Germans are being held?" Hogan asked.  
  
"Yes, sir.  Corporals Marshall and Stone are working on that now. They will be finished soon.  They are only creating temporary seals. The tunnels will not be able to be opened unless you are exiting from a tunnel. The tunnel entrances in the guards' barracks and Klink's quarters are presently the only ones being sealed," answered Kinch.  
  
"Good," Hogan said. "Give me a run down on each team."  
  
"All the preparations for Teams One through Six have been completed. Each member of the teams was supplied with uniforms, paperwork, money, weapons, and maps.  Each truck will be loaded with the necessary explosives, rations for the men and enough fuel to see them to their target and back. The teams have their orders to blow their targets on April 19 at 2400. All Teams are due back in camp by April 22. Team One consists of Sergeant Foster and selected men from Barracks Seven: Their target is the Schweinfurt Airfield. They will be departing at 0600 Hours. Team Two consists of Captain O'Malley and selected men from Barracks Five: Their target is the Darmstadt Chemical Plant.  They will also be departing at 0600 Hours.  Team three consists of Lieutenant Jenkins and selected men from Barracks Twelve: Their target is the Wurzburg Munitions Factory. They will be departing at 1300 Hours.  Team Four consists of Sergeant Jean Ouellette and selected men from Barracks Nine: Their Target is the Lohr bridge. They will also be departing at 1300 Hours.  Team Five consists of Captain David Kellogg and selected men from Barracks Nineteen: Their Target is the Lindach Train depot.  They will be departing at 1600 Hours.  Team 6 consists of Sergeant Barnes and selected men from Barracks Ten: Their Target is the Hammelburg Bridge. They will not leave camp until 2200 Hours on the 19th," Kinch reported.  
  
"I know they've all gone over the sabotage plans for their sites a thousand times, but do they have any questions or concerns? Do you feel they are ready?" wondered Hogan.  
  
"Yes, sir.  They've been ready for almost two weeks. They know what they need to do and they know the risks. They are really ready, Colonel," Kinch answered.  
  
"Thanks, Kinch," Hogan said. "It looks as if by 0800 Hours the most obvious changes to camp will be made.  We'll only be waiting for trucks to leave on missions. The families of the underground will be settled. The camp guards will be secured."   
  
"Yes, sir. Everything is moving along fine," Kinch said glancing at his watch. _0130 Hours_.  "You know Colonel, you should take some time to rest. You've been up for almost 20 hours now. You have time before the first teams leave." It had been almost two weeks since the Colonel was injured and while he looked much better, Kinch knew that he was still weak. The doctor told Kinch to make sure he got rest. Hogan had lost almost 15 pounds during the two-week period. And the food rationing wasn't helping the situation either.  Kinch was still worried and was planning to talk to the doctor when he arrived later today.  
  
"Kinch, I understand your concern and I thank you for it. But I'm fine," Hogan replied annoyed. "Admittedly I'm nowhere near one hundred percent, but I can handle it. There is too much to do right now. I still want to check on each team personally. And before you give me a dirty look, I won't hover over them. I just need to touch base with them." Hogan paused. "So are we finished?" he asked harsher than he should have.  
  
Kinch straightened up and responded formally, "Yes, sir.  If I may, sir?  I would like to accompany you, sir?  I was going to check on each team, too, sir."  
  
_Oh great, four 'SIRs' in one response.  I guess I've really pissed Kinch off._  Sighing he said, "Look, Kinch. I'm sorry. You're right I probably should be resting, but I can't do that. I need to be visible. I can't have the men thinking I've deserted them. It's important to me. I thought you of all people would understand that."  
  
"Of course, I understand," said Kinch.  "I'm just worried about you, that's all," he finished quickly averting his gaze from Hogan's.  
  
Hogan stood and extended his hand to shake Kinch's.  "You're a good friend, Kinch."  When Kinch responded in kind Hogan said softly, "I promise to let you know if I can't handle it. Okay?"  
  
"Okay," said Kinch.  
  
"Good," said Hogan. "Shall we go take a turn around the camp then?"  
  
"Yes, sir," replied Kinch.  
  
Together they spent the next hour or so checking in on each team. They greeted the underground team members as they arrived. They watched as the trucks going out to retrieve the families of the underground leave, and congratulated the men retrieving the stolen trucks after they had also gotten back safely. So far everything was going according to plan.   
  
Kinch knew that Hogan's presence was inspiring to the men in camp, especially during stressful situations. He just never realized to what extent Colonel Hogan needed to be that presence. Hogan had just spent the last hour and a half walking around this camp, like there was nothing wrong with him. He slapped people on the back, made jokes, anything he could to break the tension. All the while telling everyone they were doing a great job. The effect it had was amazing. The men in camp had been so worried about the Colonel that morale was low. He managed to change that in a little more than an hour.  
  
"Okay, Kinch.  Let's head back to the barracks. I need another cup of coffee," Hogan said moving in that direction, happy that his turn about camp had had the desired effect. Being able to deflect the men's attention off his well-being gave them a chance to better concentrate on the jobs at hand. Relieved, Hogan entered the barracks, followed by Kinch.   
  
Hogan had begun to feel faint in the compound, but knew he couldn't let it show. But now, he had barely made it through the door of Barracks Two before he felt himself falling. He grabbed for the nearest bunk. But before he could comprehend, Kinch was there and eased him down onto a bunk. Hogan knew that he had overtaxed himself, 22 hours without sleep was just too much in his present condition. Now he was left with a pounding headache, as well as his whole body being just plain sore.   
  
"Colonel, what's wrong? What can I do?" Kinch asked panicked. Hogan looked white as a sheet. Kinch was taken by surprise as Hogan's condition had changed drastically from what it had been like in the compound, as soon as he entered the barracks.   
  
"Remember that promise I made to you a couple of hours ago?" Hogan asked fatigued. "Well, I do need some rest.  I will be in my quarters if you need me." Slowly he rose from the bunk, but needed to lean on Kinch's shoulder to make it to his own quarters.  "I want to meet the first truck with the families of the underground when it arrives. You are to wake me.  Is that understood?" Hogan ordered, knowing he had about 90 minutes or so before the first truck of underground families was expected into camp.  
  
"Of course, sir," said Kinch worried all over again about the Colonel. He was tempted not to tell the Colonel when the trucks arrived, but he knew better than that.  Hogan needed to be there. Kinch was definitely going to check in with the doctor when he arrived.  
  
**Luft Stalag 13, Kommandant's Quarters,   
April 17, 1945, 0500 Hours  
  
**Colonel Klink had spent a restless night, pacing his bedroom. He had tried to lie down, but found it impossible to sleep. Colonel Hogan had ordered that the personal guards assigned to himself and Schultz never be out of sight of either of them.  Schultz had slept on a cot brought over from the NCO quarters, while Klink was to sleep in his bedroom. The guards would remain in the living room, but his bedroom door had to stay open.  
  
_It's bad enough, that I am now a prisoner, but being watched 24 hours a day will drive me mad. I may need to confront Colonel Hogan on this matter. As a prisoner here, Hogan had never been hounded 24 hours a day by a personal guard._ Klink sighed and glanced at the clock.  _0500 Hours._  He stretched and headed for the bathroom.   
  
The guard was at his door immediately saying, "That door needs to remain open, Colonel Klink."   
  
The German Colonel gave the guard a nod, grabbed his uniform on the way by and changed while in the bathroom. He re-entered his bedroom and went to the window, opened it and found another guard pointing a gun into his face. His personal guard came up behind him and told the other guard to ease off.    
  
"Sorry, Colonel. From now on you need to check with us before you open a window," said the guard.  
  
Klink nodded his understanding, and then glanced around the compound. He couldn't believe what he saw.  There were three searchlights illuminating the recreation hall. Colonel Hogan was greeting some civilians. And it appeared that two trucks had transferred civilians into camp. The trucks were parked in front of the recreation hall. There was even a fence being erected. Civilians were moving stuff into the hall. Klink was worried that Hogan may have taken hostages as a precaution, but he could easily that the civilians were not being forced into anything.  _Some are even shaking Hogan's hand_.  It was then that he saw Doc Freiling stop and talk to Hogan. _Could it be that these people are members of the underground?   
_  
"Good morning, Colonel," Schultz said as he came up behind the Kommandant.   
  
"Schultz," Colonel Klink acknowledged, only slightly, as he continued to stare out the window.   
  
Klink persisted with his assessment of the camp. There were two more trucks parked at the front gates as well, they appeared loaded with a lot of equipment. _Hogan had said that what they had planned was very important. I wonder what's he up to?_  He also noticed that there were two additional trucks parked over near the motor pool. _How did Hogan get two additional trucks?  The camp only had four trucks of its own. _The Kommandant then noticed an additional searchlight focused on the guard's barracks and that a fence was being erected there as well. Klink also noticed what appeared to be many more fake Germans soldiers in camp that he ever had originally stationed at camp. _What is Hogan up to?_ Klink had thought that maybe Hogan had taken over the camp on a whim, not really having planned it. But he realized now, that this plan of Hogan's had to be in the works for a long time. "How blind have I been?" he asked out loud of himself.   
  
"Don't berate yourself, Kommandant," said Schultz sympathetically.  "We only saw what he wanted us to see."  
  
Before Klink could respond, one of the guards entered to say it was time for morning roll call. Klink glanced out the window again before he headed for the door.  He noticed a lot of those fake guards were rounding up the POWs for roll call.  He exited his office, and silently headed down the stairs into the compound. The POWs were still assembling.  Klink noticed that his men were also being made to attend this roll call, as well. He counted 12 guards surrounding his men. _Hogan isn't taking any chances._   
  
The Kommandant's attention was brought back to the POWs when he heard Schultz report that all POWs were present and accounted for.  "Thank you, Schultz.  Dismissed." The prisoners scattered so quickly it shocked Klink. _What are they up to? _"Colonel Hogan," called Klink, before he was escorted back to his office. The German Colonel still wanted to talk to Hogan about the 24-hour guard.  
  
Hogan, who had been talking to Sergeant Kinchloe, turned quickly at his name, and started to head toward Colonel Klink. "What can I do for you, Kommandant?"   
  
"Colonel, I want to lodge a complaint about the 24 hour supervision assigned to us. It's ludicrous. You were never subjected to anything like this under my authority. I feel that neither Schultz nor I should be subjected to this," stated Klink rather vehemently.  
  
"Kommandant, as I told you before, I need to take precautions. This 24-hour supervision will be temporary, no more than one week. I can't take any chances right now.  You'll just have to deal with it," said Hogan with authority.  "Webber, LeSalle. Return Kommandant Klink and Sergeant Schultz to the Kommandant's quarters. They need to remain there until further notice. Understood?" Hogan turned away, angry, without waiting for a response from his men, and headed toward the two trucks parked at the front gates.  
  
Kommandant Klink watched Hogan walk away, somewhat surprised. It was the first time he realized that the tables were indeed turned. Even last night during the take over, Hogan had never used that tone with him. He was now extremely concerned about Hogan's real intentions toward he and his men, as he'd never seen 'this' Hogan before.   
  
**Luft Stalag 13, Colonel Hogan's Quarters,   
April 17, 1945, 0445 Hours  
**  
Kinch knocked before entering Colonel Hogan's quarters. He wasn't surprised to find Hogan was awake when he did enter. "Sir, both trucks carrying the families of the underground have just entered through the gates."  
  
"Thanks, Kinch," Hogan said as he slowly rose from his bunk, studiously ignoring his second in command. The short rest hadn't done much. He had spent most of the time going over all the plans in his head, which made it pound all the more. _Well, at least I don't feel faint anymore.   
_  
After finally getting to his feet, Hogan straightened his jacket, put on his cap and attempted to put his command face on.  Before he left his quarters though, his eyes finally met Kinch's. Hogan easily saw the worry and concern in his friend's gaze. This time though Kinch let him pass without voicing his concern. Hogan was glad he didn't have to face that obstacle as well as he really didn't have the energy to fight with Kinch.   
  
**_The Colonel then spent the next half hour greeting the families of the underground…  
_**  
Most of the 50 civilians, he'd met before. He'd been amazed early on, when he realized that once these people committed themselves to the underground, their entire families also participated in the work. They all had been indispensable in saving the lives of many Allied soldiers, by risking their lives to help transfer them in and out of Stalag 13. He hoped that now he could keep them safe, for he knew that he and his men could never have accomplished what they had without these people.   
  
After finishing his little circuit of the recreation hall, Hogan noticed Doc Freiling turn from talking to Kinch and head in his direction.  Immediately, Hogan started to feel defensive, even though, in his heart, he knew Kinch had good intentions. He just didn't have time now to get a lecture from the good Doctor.    
  
"Colonel Hogan," said Doc Freiling. "How are we feeling today?"  
  
"Just fine, Doc. No problems at all," answered Hogan hastily.  
  
"Is that so?" asked the doctor. "I'd like to make my own assessment if you don't mind Colonel."  
  
As if God was on Hogan's side, the guards began yelling about roll call. "Sorry, Doctor, I don't have time for that right now." _Or later._  Hogan knew he couldn't put the doctor off forever, but he was going to try.  Quickly turning away from Doc Freiling, he headed for his usually place for roll call.   
  
**_But roll call was over too quickly, however…  
_**  
And Kinch confronted the Colonel at the door of Barracks Two. Before he spoke, Kinch looked around to see if anyone was in earshot. _Nobody_. "Sir, I'm sorry but you need to have the doctor check you out. I told him you were still experiencing headaches. He's worried that something else might be going on. The headaches were supposed to go away with the swelling, which should have been 4 days ago. Please let him take a look at you, sir."    
  
"Stop hounding me, Kinch! I have too much to do right now!" Hogan ordered angrily. Before Hogan could continue his tirade though, he heard Klink call to him. Hogan turned quickly from Kinch and headed toward the Kommandant, relieved that he got away from second-in-command.  But that relief changed to tension as soon as Klink started complaining about his 24-hour supervision.   
  
With his head pounding and his anger at Kinch's efforts to coddle him, Hogan came down hard on Klink in response to his demands. He had completely lost his composure. Immediately, he felt guilty, but refused to face it. So, Hogan had turned from Klink and headed for the front gate, needing to see his teams off. _I will deal with everything else later.  
_  
**_From just across the compound…  
_**  
Kinch, stunned, had watched the Colonel walk away. He couldn't believe how stubborn the Colonel was being.  He knew he couldn't get Hogan to see the doctor before the first teams left, but he would get him to, very soon after. _Only I know I can't face the Colonel alone and change his mind.  But there's power in numbers. _ Kinch went to find Doc Freiling, Newkirk, Carter and LeBeau.  
  
**Mission: Schweinfurt Airfield - Team One  
Luft Stalag 13, Near Front Gate,   
April 17, 1945, 0600 Hours  
**  
Sergeant Paul Foster stood among his five-man team. He inspected each of his men one final time, as he expected Colonel Hogan would be there shortly to see them off. The men he was taking with him were all experts, the best in his barracks. Corporal Joe King, Private Francis MacDonald, Corporal Art Sheoytz, Sergeant Allan Gettings and Private Fred Riggs. The training program that existed in this camp for the prisoners so that they had the skills necessary for what Colonel Hogan needed was excellent. They were all dressed as members of the SS, he was the ranking officer dressed the part of a Major.  The plan called for them to have absolute access to the airfield once they arrived.  At this late date in the war, no one sane questioned the SS.    
  
"Are you ready to go, Sergeant?" Hogan asked walking slowly up to the group.  
  
"Yes, sir," Foster replied giving his commander a sharp salute, trying to ignore his commander's face, which looked particularly awful this morning in the half-light of dawn.  It had gone all purple and black over the last week and still looked very painful.  
  
"You have your rendezvous and codes?" Hogan asked, returning the crisp salute.  He was sending more than 40 men out over the next few hours, and he wanted to have a firm send off for each team.  
  
 "Yes, sir.  Kinch went over them with me again an hour ago.  We're ready to go," Foster said.   
  
"Very good.  I'm not going to give you any advice Foster.  You know what you need to do.  The mission is up to you.  Good luck," Hogan told the men, and then saluted the entire group.    
  
The six men then came to attention and returned it.    
  
"Thank you, sir.  We'll see you back here very soon," Foster said, motioning for his men to take their positions in the truck.  
  
Hogan stood and watched the truck pull out the gates, and watched until it turned at the bend in the road.  _God speed._  Then he turned and went to the second truck and team two who were waiting for his leave.  
  
**Mission:  Darmstadt Chemical Plant - Team Two  
Luft Stalag 13, Near Front Gate,   
April 17, 1945, 0610 Hours  
**  
Captain Ian O'Malley watched as Colonel Hogan sent off Sergeant Foster and his men.  Foster's team wasn't going as far away as his team, but they had the most complicated assignment.  They were to operate off some forged orders planted on an official courier several days ago.  Those orders should arrive at their destination today, and that would explain their presence of Foster's team at their target.  They were to officially take over security of their target and were to be there a day or so before the target date.  He silently wished them good luck as their truck drove out of Stalag 13.    
  
O'Malley took a deep breath himself and called his own men to attention.  Hogan was now making his way toward them. The men he had chosen for this mission were, Corporal Rory Girouard, Corporal Michael Soule, Sergeant William McSorley, Corporal Conrad Gagel, Lieutenant Mark Brunelle and Private Glenn Lomax.  Both Lomax and Gagel were fairly knowledgeable about chemicals, at least enough to hold a somewhat meaningful conversation about them.  His entire team spoke German like natives, and each of them were very competent with explosives.  They were all dressed as members of the regular German Army, with orders to conduct civilian scientists to the Chemical Factory in Darmstadt, to examine and inspect the plant's productivity.  The Germans were working on heavy water experiments there, and their orders were to steal what information they could and then destroy the plant.  
  
"Colonel," O'Malley said, offering his commander a crisp salute.  
  
"Captain," Hogan replied returning the salute.  "Are you all set?"  
  
"Yes, sir," O'Malley replied.  "Kinch gave me the latest codes an hour ago, we're to rendezvous with our civilian guides in Aschaffenburg, and I have the address and recognition code.  As planned we're to masquerade as members of the German Scientific Division, sent to inspect the factory."  
  
"Very good.  As I told Sergeant Foster, I'm not going to give you any advice.  You know what you need to do.  The mission is up to you.  Good luck," Hogan told these men, and then saluted them.   
  
The men then came to attention and returned it.    
  
"Thank you, sir.  We'll be back before you know it," O'Malley said, motioning for his men to take their positions in the truck.    
  
Hogan stood and watched the second truck pull out the gates, again watching until it turned the bend in the road.  _God speed.    
_  
He sighed, wearily rubbing his face with his left hand, careful not to touch the right side, as it had grown steadily more painful and sensitive over the last several days.  Hogan knew Kinch was right to be worried, but he honestly didn't want to know what was wrong now, as he had too much to do to take time out because he was sick.  Resolutely, he straightened and returned to Barracks Two.  _Perhaps I can get a few hours of rest in before the next set of teams leave.  
_  
Hogan was confident his men knew what they were doing, but he also knew that there was so much riding on the successful completion of these missions, that he hadn't been able to shake the feelings of anxiety. _Just part of the job,_ Hogan thought wearily as he entered through the door of Barracks Two, only to stop short when confronted with the five very irritated faces of his men and Doc Freiling. They were all standing, with their arms folded, waiting on him, he assumed.  
  
"What's the meaning of this?" demanded Hogan already getting defensive.   
  
Doc Freiling took center stage. "I need to examine you Colonel Hogan. These men are here to help, if you give me any trouble. They are prepared to hold you down if necessary. Can I assume that won't be necessary?"  
  
Hogan stared at his men with a look that said, 'You will regret this'.  He then turned to the doctor. "It won't be necessary, Doctor, as I hoped never to repeat that experience ever again." Hogan indicated that the doctor should precede him into his office, but not before giving his men another look of daggers.  He wasn't going to let them off the hook just yet, even though he knew their concern was genuine.   
  
"Well, that went well," said Kinch sarcastically. He'd never seen that look on the Colonel's face before. _Boy, am I in for it later._ "Thanks guys.  I knew if it was just me here, the Colonel would never have given in." Kinch had explained to the others earlier that the Colonel's headaches should have subsided by now and hadn't. He told them that the doctor was afraid that something else was causing the pain and that Hogan needed to be examined again.   
  
"Anytime," said Newkirk. "The Colonel is one stubborn man. Doesn't know what's good for him."  
  
"You can say that again," said Carter.  
  
"Oui," said LeBeau. "Let's just hope he's okay."  
  
"Yeah," said Kinch. "You guys can go back to what you were doing. I'll stay and see what the doctor has to say."   
  
The other three departed, each giving a final worried glance towards the Colonel's office. Kinch just sat at the table and stared at the Colonel's door.  
  
**_Meanwhile inside the Colonel's office…   
_**  
The doctor had instructed Hogan to remove his jacket, shirt and cap and hadn't said a word since. He had taken Hogan's blood pressure and temperature, as well as checking the surgical sites. He then started to put pressure on those sites. "I want to know how much pain you are feeling, Colonel." His voice had come as a surprise. This wasn't the kindly doctor. This doctor was not going to take any grief from his patient. "Tell me when it hurts," he said as he pressed hard on Hogan's stomach and chest.  
  
"Okay. That's enough. I give," gasped Hogan after trying in vain to control the pain. The doctor had been unrelenting with the pressure. As the pressure ceased though, he breathed a sigh of relief.  
  
"Good. The pain from your surgical sites and ribs isn't anything too excessive. The pain you felt is normal for your stage of recovery," stated the doctor. "I am concerned about your weight loss, though. You must have dropped 15 pounds, since I last saw you. It is important that you put this weight back on."  
  
"Doctor, the food in camp is being rationed and we now have 50 more people to feed. I seriously doubt the weight will go back on anytime soon," replied Hogan.   
  
"All right, Colonel, I understand.  But you need to be aware that any more weight loss could be dangerous. Just make sure you eat," replied the doctor admonishing his stubborn patient. He took a deep breath, before continuing. "Now, Colonel," the doctor said, looking right into Hogan's eyes. "Kinch tells me you have been experiencing severe headaches.  Is this true? And don't lie to me."  
  
"Who, me, Doc?  What makes you think I would lie to you?" Hogan asked with a sheepish grin.   
  
The doctor's expression never changed.   
  
"Okay you caught me," Hogan replied with a sigh. "The headaches come and go, but they have been getting longer and more painful over the past few days. I've had one since around 0300 this morning."  
  
The doctor started to examine the bruising on the Colonel's face, as well as peering into his right eye. He pressed his fingers onto Hogan's right temple.  Hogan flinched in agony and pulled away.   
  
"How long has it been that painful, Colonel?" the doctor asked alarmed.   
  
"Just a couple of days. It's only bad when the headaches come, but like I said, they've been getting worse as well.  What's going on, Doc?" Hogan asked now clearly worried, giving up the pretense of nonchalance.  
  
"I'm sorry, Colonel. I can't be 100% positive without more tests, which we are not able to do. But what my experience tells me is that possibly a bone chip from the fractures may have lodged itself somewhere behind your right eye, and has caused an infection. Your headaches are being caused by a growing hematoma."   
  
**_The doctor paused, reigning in his own feelings and then continued…_**   
  
"Colonel, I can not lie to you. This is extremely serious. The only way to cure this injury is either with surgery or heavy antibiotics, neither of which am I prepared for. There are no antibiotics available and I do not have the experience of a brain surgeon. There also would be no anesthesia available anyway, so I would never attempt the surgery."  
  
"So, tell it to me straight. What am I to expect?" asked Hogan, clearly not wanting to know.  
  
"The pain will continue to get worse. For how long or how much, I cannot say. The worst of it will be when the hematoma bursts. It will spread the infection to the rest of your brain. Mercifully, it would be much better for death to come as the hematoma bursts, as the only other option is a slow death as the infection spreads," the doctor told him disheartened, as Colonel Hogan reminded him of his son, Hans.  _So full of life and energy.  Had the two ever met, they would have been friends.  But Hans had died fighting this senseless, bloody madness called a war.  To watch Hogan slowly deteriorate will be like loosing another son.  
_  
**_Hogan slumped on his bunk at the news, and sat with his head in his hands quietly for a long moment…  
_**  
When he finally, after what seemed an eternity, looked up at the doctor he asked, "You don't know how long?"   
  
"No. I'm sorry, Colonel," the doctor answered not knowing what else to say to soften the news.    
  
Hogan ran his hands through his hair.  _This can't be happening to me.  I have too much to do, to be dying now.  Damn it, why now, after everything that we've accomplished?_  As fear started to grip his heart, he took a deep breath to settle his nerves and used all his training to keep those feelings at bay.  _I just can't dwell on this now.  I just can't. I have to ensure that this operation can continue.   
_  
Without acknowledging the doctor, Hogan slowly got up and went to open his door, needing to find Kinch. He had to make sure Kinch knew what to expect. _I don't want everyone to know, but Kinch deserves to._  He noticed Kinch was still sitting at the table in the barracks. "Kinch, I need to talk to you for a minute," stated Hogan. "Come here please." He turned and went to sit on his bunk again.   
  
"What's the matter, sir?" Kinch asked as he entered the Colonel's quarters, hoping that Hogan was just going to chew him out for the stunt a few minutes ago, but seeing the Colonel's face, he knew it had to be something bad.  
  
Hogan took a deep breath. "Kinch," he said with a frog in his throat. He coughed, and then continued, "This isn't easy for me, but the good doctor just told me that I'm dying. Nothing can be done at this point.  I wanted to let you know, as you will need to keep this place running without me. I don't want anyone else to know. I know you can handle it. I just thought you should know and could be prepared for it when it happened. According to the doctor, it can happen at any time. There is a hematoma growing in my brain behind the right eye.  Without medication and surgery, it will eventually burst, either causing my death or causing a slow death as the infection spreads."   
  
Hogan paused to see if Kinch comprehended everything, because the next thing he was going to ask of him would be hard for him to accept. "Kinch, I need you to promise me something."  
  
Kinch was still in shock but said, "Yes, sir. Anything."  
  
"If I am going to die, I want my death to be quick. I do not want to linger in pain. I want you to promise me, that if it comes to that, you will take my life," Hogan stated solemnly.   
  
Kinch couldn't answer at first. He had lowered his eyes to the floor, so he didn't have to look at Colonel Hogan. _How can I do what he's asking? I just can't_. He looked up to meet Hogan's eyes and found himself promising to do what the Colonel asked, all the while his heart was still screaming… _no I can't._  
  
"Thanks, Kinch.  Like I said before, you're a good friend." This time Hogan stood and placed both hands on Kinch's shoulders and squeezed hard. "Please don't tell anyone else, okay? I need to go now and talk to Colonel Klink.  I was a little rough on him and Schultz earlier." Hogan left the doctor and Kinch and headed toward the Kommandant's Office.  
  
Kinch looked deep into the eyes of the doctor, "There has to be something we can do, Doc.  He said he needs medication and surgery. Is that true?"  
  
"Actually, Kinch, if we could get hold of some strong antibiotics, that could solve the problem without surgery. But there are none to be found anywhere at this point, not in Germany anyway. We also don't know how much time he has.  Once the hematoma bursts, it will be too late," the doctor replied. "That was one of the hardest things I've ever done.  That man doesn't deserve to die.  He's done so much for our cause, it is such a shame that he will be unable to see the end result."  
  
"Yeah. I know. I always thought that he and I would leave this place together," Kinch said sadly.   He turned to the doctor suddenly as an idea struck.  "You said he needed antibiotics.  What if I could get a medical supply drop from London?" Kinch asked hopefully. "They had toyed with the idea when the Colonel was originally injured. Maybe I can persuade them."  
  
"If you could, Kinch, that would be great. I suggest not telling the Colonel. It may not go over well.  We don't want to get his hopes up until we are sure," the doctor cautioned.   
  
"Put it this way Doc.  We can't tell the Colonel until it's absolutely necessary, because he would forbid me to make this request.  He wouldn't want to risk anyone else's life for his own.  So can this be our little secret? It's still quite possible that they will not be able to send it," Kinch replied.  
  
"Okay, Kinch, can I help? I can give the people in London the specifics of his injury. If they need it that is," offered the doctor.  
  
"Sure," answered Kinch. They both left the Colonel's quarters and headed to the radio room under Barracks Two.  
  
**Luft Stalag 13, Compound,   
April 17,1945, 0800 Hours  
**  
After Hogan left Barracks Two, he leaned against the outside wall for a moment.  It was such a shock to have discovered that he may not see the end of this war.  He realized that he needed to check in with his men first, before checking in with Klink and Schultz, as he knew that he might not get another opportunity.    
  
**_Resolutely he began a tour of the camp…   
_**  
The men working on the fences for the recreation hall, as well as the guards' barracks would be done very soon. Everything was running smoothly in the motor pool as well. Hogan continued to wander the compound and met with the other four team-leaders, wishing them luck.   
  
The Colonel had also seen Newkirk, Carter and LeBeau in his travels, as well. He had told them that the doctor had prescribed rest, and saying that the headaches were only from too much stress and activity. Hogan knew he owed them the truth, but did not want to advertise it in the compound.   
  
After his circuit of the camp, Hogan finally headed for Klink's quarters, wanting to square things with the Kommandant. He hadn't meant to chew his head off earlier in the day. Remembering the look on Klink's face as he turned away, Hogan was convinced that Klink was no longer sure of his intentions. Hogan truly wanted to ensure the safety of the remaining Germans in camp.  When he had given his word, he had expected that he would be around to enforce it.  Now, he might not be able to. He knew that Kinch would keep his promise, but Kinch was only a Sergeant and he would not have much pull with any liberating force.   
  
As Hogan climbed the steps to the Kommandant's quarters, LaSalle and Webber came out after having been relieved.  He almost bowled over both men, and they jumped backward hastily moving out of his way.  
  
"Sorry, sir," they said together, almost in one voice.  
  
"You both have nothing to be sorry for," Hogan replied.  "It is I who should be apologizing to you both.  I was very sharp with you earlier today, when there was no need.  You and this entire camp are doing a terrific job under very difficult conditions."  
  
"Thank you, sir!" they said again together.  Hogan didn't give out praise often, expecting that everyone would do their jobs. But when he said it, he meant it.  
  
Hogan continued into Klink's quarters.  Corporal Joyce and Private Kingston stood from where they'd been seated at the table playing cards.  Klink was pacing on the other side of the room, while Schultz was seated on the couch.    
  
"I wish to speak with Colonel Klink alone," Hogan said to his men.  "Why don't you men take Schultz for a stroll, perhaps he can check on the other guards. I'll send someone to find you when you may return."  
  
"Yes, sir," Joyce replied gesturing for Schultz to rise.  Kingston was already at the door.  
  
Schultz got up and gave Hogan a look of concern before he left with the two guards.  He couldn't believe how much Hogan's personality had changed, seemingly overnight.  This man wasn't the same charming, irrepressible con artist he had known.  Schultz wasn't sure how to approach him any more.   
  
"What do you want now, Hogan?  No revolver this time?" Klink asked, still stinging from their earlier confrontation.  
  
Hogan sighed and sat in the same armchair that he had occupied during his take-over.  "Why don't you join me, Kommandant?"  
  
Klink sat, really confused now.  Hogan was such a different person now than he had been in the past three years of their acquaintance.  He had no idea what to expect from him.  Earlier this morning he was angry and belligerent. Now he appeared subdued and hesitant.  
  
Hogan waited for Klink to sit before he began.  "Colonel Klink, I came to apologize for earlier this morning.  I had no right to bite your head off like that.  At the time I hadn't been feeling all that well, and both Kinch and Doc Freiling were badgering me to rest.  I don't like to be coddled.  My men have been doing that to me for the last two weeks.  I'd just had enough.  You asked me the wrong question at the wrong time.  So again, I apologize."  
  
"Thank you, Colonel," said Klink still very bewildered.  "I was truly afraid that you had changed your intentions for my men and I."  Klink paused and then looked directly at Hogan. "If I may speak freely, Colonel?    
  
"Of course," Hogan replied.  
  
"I've seen more mood swings from you in the past ten hours than I have ever seen in the past three years. I honestly don't know what to believe, or what expect at this point," Klink said.  
  
Hogan was quiet for a long moment, gathering his thoughts and his courage.  He was going to be totally honest with Klink.  "I wish I could tell you exactly what was going to happen.  But now, I'm not even sure.  I promised you, and your men, your safety.  But right now I don't know whether I can fulfill that promise.  Things have drastically changed since earlier this morning."  
  
"What has happened?" Klink asked alarmed. "News of the front?"  
  
"No.  Things much closer to home.  What I have to tell you is very hard for me to say.  It is now very likely that I will not be here to fulfill my promise to you.  My intention is still for Kinch and the other men in camp to defend that promise against any Allied force that liberates this camp, but Kinch is only a Sergeant and may not be able to stand up against any Allied opposition."  
  
"I don't understand, Colonel.  Where will you be?" Klink asked confused.  _Where would Hogan go?  
_  
Hogan cleared his throat and got up to face the window, his back to Klink, finding that he couldn't say what he needed to.  The words just weren't there.  
  
"Hogan?" Klink asked, getting up as well.  And when Hogan didn't move, Klink took a few steps towards him.    
  
Sensing Klink's approach, Hogan moved immediately to the other side of the room, putting more space between them.    
  
Klink was dumfounded. To his knowledge Hogan had never backed away from anything. Klink remained still and silent, staring at Hogan's back.  
  
"I'm sorry, Colonel Klink.  What I am going to tell you now, I hope you will keep to yourself.  There are only two other people in camp that know the truth," Hogan said softly.  "As I said, this is difficult for me.  Doctor Freiling just told me that I am dying, from complications due to the blow to my head. Death can come at any moment. There will be no warning and there is little or nothing he can do to stop it."  
  
Hogan straightened and turned to face Klink.  "So you need to understand that I can no longer personally guarantee your safety.  But I trust Kinch and the others.  They're all good men. They will do what they can to keep that promise. I want to make sure you know that you can trust them." Hogan paused and sighed. "At this point, that's the best I can do.  I'm sorry."  
  
"Thank you for your honesty. I have no doubt that your men will continue with your original plan," Klink said, a little shell-shocked. He paused then continued, "Colonel Hogan.  I'm very sorry.  I never should have allowed that beating to continue as long as it did.  May I ask, what has happened?  The last report from Doctor Freiling was that you were recovering."  
  
Hogan took a deep breath, again moving away from Klink, so that he faced the window.  "There is a hematoma building behind my right eye.  It's causing pressure to the brain, resulting in severe headaches.  Without anything to treat it, the hematoma will eventually burst, causing the infection to spread."   
  
Klink stared in horrified disbelief at Hogan's back.  There was nothing he could think of to say.  Hogan wouldn't want sympathy, nor pity.    
  
Hogan suddenly turned to face Klink. "I'm sorry that I won't be here to see the end of this bloody war."  Hogan stood straight and gave Klink a crisp, clean military salute.  This time he meant it.  It was the only way he could think of to convince Klink of his sincerity.  He held the salute waiting for Klink to respond in kind.  
  
Klink stood for a moment in shock.  Hogan had never given him a proper salute, always it had been casual, almost insulting.  Klink straightened and returned the salute.    
  
Hogan left the room, not saying another thing.  Klink stood for a long time, staring at the last spot Hogan had occupied. He didn't move until Schultz returned, alone.  
  
"Where are the guards?" Klink asked.  
  
"They stopped at the door, Herr Kommandant, per Colonel Hogan's orders," Schultz replied.  "What did Colonel Hogan have to say?"  
  
"He asked me to keep it to myself, but I feel that you have a right to know.  It could affect our very survival.  First, Hogan apologized for his attitude this morning.  He said he had not been feeling well and had lost his temper.  But the real reason he came, was to tell me that he may not be here to protect the Germans soldiers in this camp when the liberating forces arrive. He assured me, that his men would continue with his plans. He just wanted me to know, as he could no longer personally guarantee our safety."  
  
"Where will he be?" Schultz asked anxiously. "Why would he leave? I had expected that he would try to keep his promise, even if events conspired against him. We are truly safer with Colonel Hogan here. Now he's deserting us. Why?"  
  
"He's dying, Schultz," Klink replied softly, and pausing for Schultz to fully comprehend.  "He was just told this morning. It now seems that because of my delay in acting, Major Hochstetter will accomplish what he set out to do that night."   
  
"You shouldn't blame yourself Colonel," Schultz replied.  "Major Hochstetter was beyond reason that night." _Insane describes him better. Poor Colonel Hogan, to die so close to the end of this war. It's awful, but at least he is man enough to try to fulfill his promise to us. He could have abandoned us with no explanation.   
_  
"But Major Hochstetter was also right about Colonel Hogan's involvement in the underground. Hogan is not the innocent here. You need to realize that Hogan, being the leader of the underground, was responsible for all the resistance activity in the area. Very many people died because of him and many more may still. Does that make him any better than Major Hochstetter? And what does that make me, Schultz?" Klink asked.  
  
"A man with a conscience. Hochstetter had no conscience. He was insane. You couldn't watch such madness," Schultz replied, for once being forthright. "We should now both realized that Colonel Hogan was fighting for a cause.  The same cause we should have also been fighting for.  To free our country from Hitler's insanity," Schultz replied, resolute. "So far Colonel Hogan has been very fair.  He's been honest with us.  He has kept you informed about his illness.  He has given his word to protect us.  So what does that make Colonel Hogan?"   
  
"A soldier, Schultz, a soldier.  Something we've only pretended to be," Klink replied.   
  
**London, England, Allied Headquarters,   
April 17, 1945, 0800 Hours   
**  
_Papa Bear, calling Mama Bear. Urgent.  Request drop of urgently needed medical supplies; penicillin, pain medication, sedatives. Also request food drop.  Usual coordinates.  Medical Supplies Urgently Needed.  Papa Bear's condition has deteriorated.  Respond soonest.  
_  
Lieutenant Patterson received this newest message with growing concern.  He had been taking messages from Papa Bear for almost two years now and this was the second message they had received informing HQ that Papa Bear was wounded. He had thought that by now, the agent would have recovered.  Papa Bear had a sterling reputation here at headquarters.  He had received a blanket authority to provide Papa Bear with whatever he asked for.  But this request was something for which he needed more authority than even that granted him.  He picked up his phone and called his commanding officer, Major Peter Kimmel.  
  
**_Just a short time later…  
_**  
Major Kimmel handed the message to General Michael Simpson.  "That's all the information we have, General.  This is the second such message, though the first one only dealt with the fact the agent was wounded.  That was two weeks ago.  Obviously the injuries are very serious."  
  
"What have you replied?" Simpson asked, frowning over the message.  
  
"Nothing as yet, sir.  We only received the message ten minutes ago," Kimmel replied.  
  
"Reply that the items requested will be dropped tonight, normal procedure," Simpson ordered.  "We owe Papa Bear a great deal after over three years of exceptional service."  
  
"Yes, sir," Kimmel replied, and rose from his chair.  
  
"However," Simpson continued holding up a hand to forestall his officer's leaving.  "Once you've sent that message, come back here.  I want to have a contingency plan in place for Papa Bear's operation, in case Papa Bear has died or has become incapacitated."  
  
"Yes, sir," Kimmel replied, saluting the General.  
  
**Luft Stalag 13, Compound,   
April 17, 1945, 0900 Hours  
**  
Colonel Hogan had left the Kommandant's quarters quickly and headed back to his barracks. He did not want Klink to think of him as a coward. But, he knew if he stayed any longer, he would not have been able to control his emotions.  He couldn't believe how hard this was for him to accept.  He had not felt this way when he confronted Hochstetter, even though he had thought his death was imminent then. _I guess maybe it feels worse because I have no enemy to fight.  My brain is just going to succumb to some infection._  Fear enveloped him.  He wasn't ready to die now. A shiver ran down his spine. _Pull yourself together, man. You have too much to do before that happens.   
_  
He looked up to find himself already at the barrack's door. He'd been so preoccupied, he almost ran headlong into it.  He opened the door to find Kinch and Doc Freiling entering the barracks through the tunnel entrance.   
  
_Very strange._ "What were you two up to?" asked Hogan, at first only curious, but then he noticed a look of conspiracy be exchanged between the two men.  Suspicious, he waited to hear their response.  
  
Before Kinch could respond, the doctor said with confidence, "Nothing you need to concern yourself with, Colonel.  Kinch was just giving me a tour of the tunnel system leading to the recreation hall."    
  
Kinch frowned and dropped his head to his chest. _Good going, Doc!_ Kinch groaned to himself.  _There is no tunnel to the recreation hall.  
_  
Anger was already starting to build within Hogan. "Sorry, Doc, good try. But there is no tunnel to the recreation hall," Hogan said rather evenly.  "So.  Are you two going to tell me what you were doing? Especially since it now seemed important to try and keep it from me," Hogan stated dangerously.  
  
Kinch came forward to face Hogan, ready to defend his actions. "I contacted London to see if we could get a medical supply drop for you."  
  
Hogan returned Kinch's posturing, not able to contain his anger. "And you did this without my permission?  How dare you? Who the hell do you think you are?  You've could have put this whole mission in jeopardy!" Hogan yelled, steaming. _Kinch betrayed my trust. I can't believe it.   
_  
Kinch stared back at Hogan defiantly. "Yes, I did it without your permission. I dared to do it, because I knew you would never let me.  Hell. I had considered myself your friend." Kinch took a deep breath, and then continued, "This damn mission is going to be in jeopardy without you!" Kinch ended up right in Hogan's face. "You are such a stubborn bastard. You know that! I bet you want to die. Sure, that's it. Take the easy way out!"  
  
Hogan grabbed Kinch by the front of his jacket and pushed him hard up against a bunk. "How dare you talk to me that way?  How can you think that I would choose death as a quick way out? I don't want to die. You bastard." Hogan gave Kinch another shove against the bunk. "Contact London and cancel that drop, now! I don't want to be responsible for any more lives."    
  
Hogan stopped ranting, too exhausted to continue, as his whole body started to shake. Staring at his shaking hands, he let go of Kinch's shirt. "You bastard," he said, and sunk onto the bench by the table.  
  
"I will not contact London. If you are so willing to die, then you do it!" Kinch yelled.  
  
Hogan looked angry enough to strike Kinch. He attempted to get up, but before he could get to his feet… he doubled over, grabbed his head and crumpled to the floor, softly mumbling, "I don't want to die."  
  
Doc Freiling and Kinch were at his side instantly. Hogan was unconscious. The doctor checked his blood pressure and pulse. "He just fainted. He's been under too much stress and has not been sleeping or eating right. Your confrontation sent him over the edge," said the doctor.  
  
"Oh my God! I could have killed him!" Kinch said disbelieving, staring at the pale, still form of his best friend.  
  
"Kinch, listen to me. The hematoma will grow at its own pace, nothing that anyone says or does will change that. Colonel Hogan's mind and body are warring right now. The only possible resolution was for him to pass out until a truce could be found," said the doctor. "Help me get him to his bunk."  
  
They both carried Hogan to his quarters, and placed him on the bottom bunk. By the time they got him settled, he started to come around. "What happened?" he asked softly.  
  
"You fainted, Colonel. Now just rest," the doctor said calmly.  
  
Kinch sighed and sat down on the bed next to the Colonel. "I'm sorry Colonel.  I was only trying to help. I didn't know how we could continue without you. And I didn't want to find that out."  
  
Hogan replied, "I guess I should just be grateful to have a friend who cares enough." He reached up to grasp Kinch's arm. "Thanks."   
  
"So are you going to ask me what London said?"  Kinch asked.  
  
"You know, you still shouldn't have done what you did," Hogan said quietly, turning his eyes from Kinch.  
  
"And you're going to tell me you wouldn't have done the same for any man in this camp?" Kinch asked.  
  
"That's not the point," Hogan stated, not knowing what else to say without getting caught in a lie.  
  
Kinch gave him a knowing look and then repeated, "So are you going to ask me what London said?"   
  
Hogan looked questioningly up at Kinch.   
  
"The drop is tonight, there will be food as well as medical supplies. Mama Bear told me to tell you, 'They owed you one'," Kinch said with a smile.  
  
"Colonel Hogan.  Please," Doctor Freiling interrupted. "Please. Before you get your hopes up. You need to know, that we still have 14 hours before that drop. I don't want you to think you are completely out of danger. I do not know at what stage the hematoma is at, and the antibiotics still need 24 to 36 hours to take effect."  
  
"I understand, Doc," Hogan replied with a sigh. Turning to Kinch he said, "I told Kommandant Klink about my condition. I wanted to make sure he knew he could count on you in my place. Please take some time and talk to him. I'm going to try and get some sleep. Wake me before the next two teams leave."  
  
"Yes, sir," replied Kinch.   
  
"Also, I owe Newkirk, LeBeau and Carter the truth. I had not said anything when I met them in the compound. Please don't say anything, just have them here when you wake me," ordered Hogan.  
  
"Yes, sir," answered Kinch.  
  
Kinch left followed by the doctor. Once they had closed Hogan's door, the doctor said, "Oh, Kinch. You both had me terrified!  I thought Colonel Hogan was going to hit you."  
  
"Me, too," Kinch said. "I've never seen him that upset, but I knew he was going to yell at me. I hoped that by taking the offensive, I could distract him enough to get my point across. I think it worked." Kinch sighed. "I'm just glad I still have all my teeth." He laughed nervously. "Do you think he is going to be okay?"  
  
"I will check on him a little later.  He's had one hell of an emotional roller coaster ride today. He needs to digest all that's been going on," explained the doctor. "But I'm sorry I can not guarantee anything. Colonel Hogan is still very ill. I can only hope, along with you, that he can hold out until the antibiotics get here."  
  
"Okay, Doc," said Kinch. "I have work to do. I will return here around 1200 Hours. Could you keep any eye on the Colonel for me?"  
  
"I will give the Colonel some time alone.  He needs it.  I will check in with everyone I came with. Then I will be back," said the doctor.  
  
"Thanks," said Kinch, as he left Barracks Two to take a tour of the camp and to talk to the Kommandant as well.  
  
Doc Freiling followed Kinch out of the barracks and spent sometime with other members of the underground. He wanted to see how his friends were adjusting. They were a tough people, but he knew eventually that being cooped up in a prison camp was going to wear thin. _So far so good.  But I still don't understand how all these men have stood it for years on end.    
_  
**_Two hours later…  
_**  
Doc Freiling knew it was time to check on Colonel Hogan. He hoped that Hogan had gotten some rest. But he also hoped nothing was wrong as Hogan had been very quiet for the last two hours. A feeling of dread had come over the doctor when he knocked on the officer's door and got no response. He opened the door and called out, "Colonel Hogan, are you awake?"  
  
A soft "come in" was all he heard. Hogan had been lying on his left side, but turned to face the doctor as he approached. "Is there something wrong, Doctor?" Hogan asked softly.  
  
"No, Colonel.  I just came by to check on you. How are you feeling?" he asked, putting his hand softly against Hogan's head. _There's no sign of fever, which is good.  
_  
"Can we just bypass that question, Doctor?  It won't do either of us any good to hear the answer," Hogan replied. His head felt so heavy, and the pounding wasn't getting any better.  The sight in his right eye was also much fuzzier than it had been since the injury.  He realized that it was only another indication that his condition was worsening.  He felt he should keep that to himself. _It just isn't worth getting the men more worried than they already are.  
_  
"Of course.  Maybe you should just stay here and rest for the afternoon," suggested the doctor, but realized as he said it that it was never going to happen. Before Hogan could respond he said, "But you don't have time for that do you?"  
  
"Hey, Doc. You are getting better at this game," Hogan said with a little more oomph. As he answered, he started to sit up in his bunk. The sudden change of position caused him to wince. His head had continued to pound since early this morning.  He couldn't tell if it hurt any worse, but the constant pounding was wearing on his nerves.  Not to mention that, he was way beyond exhausted, as he just couldn't sleep with his head pounding like it was.  
  
"Can I help?" offered the doctor, helping Hogan stand and move to his desk, where Hogan sat back down.  
  
"Thanks, Doc," said Hogan, distracted.  
  
"Colonel Hogan, if you need someone to talk to, I'm here. I may not understand all that you are feeling, but I'm willing to listen," offered the doctor.   
  
"Thanks, I may take you up on it, but now I need to square things with my men. Could you find Kinch for me?" Hogan asked. "And ask him to come talk to me."   
  
"That won't be hard, Colonel. He was right outside when I arrived," replied the doctor. The doctor headed to the door, opened it, and gestured for Kinch to enter and then quickly left the two men to their discussion.  
  
As soon as the door closed behind the doctor, Kinch came to attention and said, "Reporting as ordered, sir."  
  
"Relax, Kinch.  I'm finished yelling. I don't have the energy anyway," Hogan replied with a sigh. "I just wanted a status report. How are things going?"  
  
"Everything is still going according to plan," Kinch said. "I just finished a tour of the camp. So far, so good, sir. I talked to Colonel Klink, and it went well. I don't think you have to worry. Newkirk, LeBeau and Carter will be here by 1200 Hours. I have not told them anything more than you are expected to rest. Doc Freiling has spent time talking to the families, he was concerned about how they would react to being confined in a prison camp. So far, they are adjusting well. The camp's guards are quiet.  I honestly think that just don't know what to do. Kommandant Klink had been to talk to them a few times.  I think they have become resigned to their situation," finished Kinch.  
  
"Thanks, Kinch.  What's the plan to retrieve the drop tonight?" asked Hogan.  
  
"We can use the truck that will not be going out until the 19th. The drop is at midnight, same procedure as always. We will give the signal. I was going to send five men out.  If there's a food drop and a medical supply drop, there will be a lot of stuff to move. They will be dressed in German uniforms. That way, they should be able to pass by any obstacle in their path. They should be back by 0300 Hours," reported Kinch.  
  
Hogan didn't respond right away, and never made eye contact with Kinch. "I still don't like this, Kinch. Part of me is still angry with you for disobeying my orders.  The other part of me is relieved that I now have a chance to fight this thing.  I don't know how I will live with myself if someone involved in this mission is injured or killed." He lapsed into a long silence and then he said, "Of course, I can't even be sure if this stuff will come in time to change anything."   
  
Hogan then looked directly at Kinch. "I want to be honest with you, Kinch. I've already been tempted to take my own life. I can't go on much longer like this, my head feels like it's going to explode, my nerves are shot and I'm exhausted. I promise you that I will not resort to that, unless there is no other choice. I can't desert you and these men who've worked so hard. What I need to know is that if it comes to that and I am not able to do it, will you be able to keep your promise to me?"  
  
"Colonel, let's not think about that now. The drop is on its way. Everything will be fine," Kinch said.  
  
"Kinch, I really need to know if you will keep your promise.  It's important to me. I don't want to end up in a coma, dying slowly.  It also would not do you or anyone else in camp, any good, to spend time dealing with me in that condition. A quick, clean end would be preferable," Hogan said, looking intently into Kinch's eyes and waiting for his answer.  
  
"Colonel, I promise to do what you ask," Kinch answered softly.  
  
"Good.  Let's hope it just doesn't come to that, okay?" Hogan offered.  
  
"Yes, sir," Kinch replied.  
  
"Can you get Newkirk, LeBeau, and Carter together?  I'll be out in a few minutes," asked Hogan.  
  
"Yes, sir, they should be here already. I'll make sure," Kinch answered and headed to the door. As he opened it and looked in to the main barracks, he indicated to the Colonel that the men were indeed already waiting for him.  
  
"I'll be right there," Hogan said watching Kinch close the door.   
  
Hogan leaned on the table with his head in his hands and took four deep breaths to settle his nerves. He wanted to appear calm, cool, and collected in front of Newkirk, LeBeau and Carter. _Not that they can't read right through me._    
  
Hogan finally stood and exited his office and came face to face with the four men gathered around the center table. "I asked Kinch to have you come here, because I have something to tell you. First I want to apologize, as I have misled you since my medical exam this morning. I also made Kinch keep the results quiet, until I got a chance to tell you myself."    
  
Hogan took a deep breath.   
  
"The doctor checked into the reason for my continued headaches.  It seems that a bone fragment from one of the fractures has lodged itself behind my right eye.  It has caused a hematoma to develop. According to the doctor, the only way to stop it from growing is surgery and/or medication. I was told this morning, that neither surgery nor medication were available options. The only thing to expect was that the hematoma would grow until it burst. This would either result in my immediate death or would cause a lingering death due to the spread of the infection."  
  
He paused for another deep breath and looked deep into the eyes of his men. They all appeared rather shocked, not having anything to say. "By this afternoon, Kinch told me that London was preparing a medical supply drop, as well as a food drop for this evening.  It's still very possible that even if the medication arrives, it may still be too late. The doctor has no way of knowing when the hematoma will burst. It can happen anytime without warning."  
  
"I wanted to take this opportunity to tell you all personally what this command, and your friendships, have meant to me.  I wanted to wait until we could all walk out those gates as free men, but now I may not get a chance to do that.  So.  Thank you all.  You have all been extraordinary.  This was not an easy thing to ask of you.  We all gave up three years of our lives here. Hopefully you believe that those three years made a difference.  I believe that they did."  Hogan paused, unable to continue; instead he offered his hand to each man.  
  
"I think I speak for all of us," Newkirk said, glancing at the others.  "We're proud of what we've done here, but it was your leadership that made this operation a success. We wouldn't have missed it for the world.  Thank you."  Newkirk pulled himself upright, and the other three followed suit immediately. The four of them gave Hogan a precise, drill order salute.  
  
Hogan returned their salute.  "There is one final thing I want to ask each of you.  I want you to support Sergeant Kinchloe. He will be in charge, if and when it becomes necessary. He will need your help to keep this camp safe until the war is over. It's important for me to know that you will defend his decisions. Do I have your promise to do so?" Hogan asked.  
  
"Yes, sir," they replied in unison with determined looks.  Obviously nothing would make them break this particular promise made to the Colonel.  
  
"Thank you.  Kinch, please give them a rundown on the package pickup for this evening.  I'm going to check on the two teams leaving soon," Hogan said, heading for the door, needing to escape the barracks, as his emotions were starting to overwhelm him.   
  
Kinch spent time telling the three of them about the pickup. Newkirk, Carter and LeBeau readily agreed to go. He would ask Olsen and Darby to help as well. Kinch had wanted to go himself, but knew that that was impossible. If something should happen to Colonel Hogan, he needed to be available. Newkirk, LeBeau and Carter were very quiet after the meeting. It seemed they were all trying to deal with the news independently. _I know how they feel.  I've had all morning and still can't fathom it.  
_  
**Luft Stalag 13, Colonel Hogan's Quarters,   
April 17, 1945 1630 Hours  
**  
Hogan had just seen three of the last four teams off, after having kept himself busy since he had talked with his men earlier in the afternoon.  He had decided to tour the camp, and had checked in with everyone and had come away very proud.  His men were on top of everything. The families were doing okay. Construction on the recreation hall was completed. The fence around the guard's quarters had been completed and the former camp guards were now able to get out and stretch their legs.   
  
He had also ordered Klink and Schultz's guards to allow them a little more freedom. Both were now allowed to have the quarters to themselves. They would be escorted only when leaving the building. The phones had already been removed from Klink's quarters and office, since Hogan had people monitoring the calls going in and out of camp. If Klink were needed he would be patched in, but always with someone listening in.  
  
Hogan had found that while he toured the camp, his mood had changed. The pain was still there and he felt weak, but seeing all his plans coming together had made him proud. He had hoped that the field teams were having as much luck. He knew that he'd just have to wait to find that out though. Hogan then realized he may never get to know what happened. _  
_  
**_Exhausted, Hogan had then returned to his quarters to get some rest…  
_**  
Hogan woke when he heard a knock at his door. "Come," he said, surprised at how dark it was. He tried glancing at his watch, but couldn't make out the time. _I must have actually dozed off for a while._   
  
Doc Freiling entered carrying a tray and said, "Colonel Hogan.  I came to check on you. You've been sleeping for 5 hours. I was getting a little concerned. How's it going?"  He put the tray down on the desk and lit the small lamp Hogan had in his bedroom.  
  
"Pretty much the same, the pain is still there. I guess I won't be able to really tell until I start moving around," said Hogan as he slowly sat up. Gratefully, he wasn't feeling dizzy or light-headed, as he had been before, so he tried to stand by placing his right hand on the footlocker beside his bed, but his hand completely missed the footlocker and he started to lose his balance. "Damn," he said.  
  
"Let me help, Colonel," said Freiling, grabbing hold of an arm and helping Hogan rise. He was suspicious, as even in his worst state the American was never clumsy. "Let me take a look at you, Colonel," the doctor offered as he helped the officer to his desk. It didn't take much for the doctor to see that the bruising to Hogan's face hadn't changed. It was still a multi-color purple. So, he continued his examination with Hogan's eyesight.   
  
Hogan held up a hand and admitted, "Don't bother Doc. I can't see from my right eye. The vision is completely gone now. It's been consistently fuzzy for days. I had noticed it getting worse during the day today."  
  
"Why didn't you tell me?" said the doctor, frustrated with the stubborn Colonel.  
  
"And what were you going to do?" asked Hogan, vehemently. "Nothing, right? Nobody else needed to know. And they still don't. Please keep this to yourself."  
  
"And I thought Germans were stubborn! You Americans are impossible!" Freiling said, throwing his hands in the air and turning away from the American Colonel, wanting to storm out of the room. But as he got to the door, he took a deep breath, and turned back to Hogan. "I've brought you something to eat.  Are you going to eat it without an argument?" he asked accusingly. "I also had wanted to discuss the procedures for administering the medications."  
  
"Sorry, Doctor, what is that you need to discuss?" Hogan asked genuinely sorry, knowing that he hadn't been all that cooperative during his convalescence.  
  
"In addition to the antibiotics, I had asked London to include pain medication as well as sedatives. I wanted to make sure you understand what I planned to do. You'll be getting penicillin and pain medication every 4 hours. I want to administer the sedatives too, when they first arrive. You are in need of sleep desperately. I just wanted to confirm the sedative with you. Kinch told me that you have time to rest. He said the last team does not leave until the evening of the 19th."   
  
"Actually, Doc, that sounds fine. I won't argue with you over this. It's my only chance to beat this thing. I'm sorry I haven't been the ideal patient," Hogan apologized. "What's for dinner?" he asked not really hungry, but not having the energy to fight with the doctor. Deep down he knew he had to eat.  _It's just hard to be hungry when all you can concentrate on is how you could drop dead at any minute. Besides, my head is pounding so hard now, that I'm surprised no one else can hear it.  
_  
"I'm sorry that it isn't something more appealing, but at least it's nourishment. You need to finish it all Colonel," admonished the doctor as he left.   
  
**_Hogan ate as much as he could, knowing that the doctor probably still wouldn't be happy…  
_**  
Glancing at his watch, Hogan realized that there was only 45 minutes before his men would be leaving for the drop pickup. He decided to touch base with them earlier than planned. All five men were in the main barracks, getting the final fittings of their German uniforms.  He knew that Olsen and Darby had only been told they were going for a food drop. He wished them all luck, as well as, thanking them for going out on this mission at the last minute, sure that his "real" thanks reached Newkirk, Carter and LeBeau… he saw it in their faces.    
  
Hogan returned to his office, not wanting to hover, and because he had nothing more to do at this time of night.  
  
**Mission:  Darmstadt Chemical Pant - Team Two  
Town of Aschaffenburg,   
April 17, 1945, 1940 Hours  
**  
Soule maneuvered the truck down some very narrow streets on the outskirts of Aschaffenburg.  They were looking for 14 Riedeselstrasse.  Finally they found the address and it turned out to be a cobbler shop.  Soule pulled the truck as far as he could to the right, in front of the shop and stopped.  
  
"All right," O'Malley said turning so the men in the back of the truck could hear him. "McSorley, you're with me.  Brunelle, you're in charge here."  
  
"Yes, sir," Brunelle replied, following McSorley from the back of the truck.  He took the Captain's seat in the front of the truck and motioned for the remaining men in the truck to keep watch out the back.  They didn't need to be surprised.  He watched as the Captain entered the shop with the Sergeant on his heals. This was the first mission the Sergeant had ever been on and he was clearly very excited.    
  
Captain O'Malley opened the shop door, smiling slightly at the whimsical little bell that jangled merrily over his head at his entrance.  It reminded him of his uncle's butcher shop back home in Dublin.    
  
The clerk behind the counter raised his head from the vise he was bent over and asked, "May I help you, Herr Captain?"  
  
"Please.  I am perhaps lost.  Is this the road to Birstein?" O'Malley replied, using the first line of the code he had been given.  
  
"Ja.  But you are going in the wrong direction.  Wertheim is more on your way," the clerk replied, putting down his tools and wiping his hands on the apron he wore.  
  
"Oh, Wertheim is too far.  Perhaps Hammelburg is closer?" O'Malley said, completing the code.  
  
"Ja, ja.  Welcome.  I am Herr Otto Schuster," the man said.  He was a tall man, well over six feet and looked like he could wrestle a bear and win.  He had black eyes, brown hair and looked to be about fifty.  "You are Papa Bear?"  
  
"Nein.  Papa Bear sent us.  I am Ian O'Malley and this is Bill McSorley.  We have other men waiting outside in the truck.  You have two men to go with us?" O'Malley asked.  
  
"Ja.  My brother Johann and another man from the village, Pieter Strauss, will go with you.  Johann is a pharmacist, at least he is when there is something to dispense, and Pieter taught physics at the University before the war.  The University is closed, and he is out of work.  Both should be helpful in what we understand your mission to be."  Motioning for the two men to follow him, Otto explained, "I will call Johann from the back room, and he will fetch Pieter and they will meet you here."  
  
Otto went to the sidewall and cranked the phone hanging there.  Soon he was talking to his brother, "Ja, Johan.  I could use some help at the shop this afternoon.  I have a delivery to make on Sandstrasse."  Otto listened for a moment and then replied,  "Danke Schoen.  Auf Wiedersehen."  Schuster hung up his phone.  "He is on his way.  It shouldn't take more than an hour for the two of them to come."  
  
"Excellent," O'Malley replied.   
  
"You are welcome to wait here," Schuster replied.  
  
"I have four more men in the truck, perhaps we will simply wait there.  We have orders, should we be challenged," O'Malley replied.  
  
"All right.  When they come, they'll enter though the back door.  I'll pull the shade on that window," Schuster indicated the window left of the door.   
  
"Okay," O'Malley agreed, leaving the shop with McSorley.  
  
**_Almost an hour later…  
_**  
That shade was drawn in the shop.  O'Malley entered the shop just a few minutes later to find that Herr Schuster was again bent over his vise.  
  
Schuster straightened, wiping his face while he indicated the back room with his head.  O'Malley passed by the crafter and entered the backroom.  There he found two well-dressed men.  The man on the right was nearly sixty dressed in a sharp navy blue suit, his black hair neatly brushed back with wire rimmed glasses perched on his nose covering sparkling black eyes.  The man next to him was about forty, dressed in a black suit, and was completely bald with a high forehead and blue eyes.  "Herr Schuster? Herr Strauss?" O'Malley asked softly.  
  
"Ja," the older man answered.  "I am Pieter, this is Johan.  You are?"  
  
"Ian O'Malley.  If you're ready to go, we'll brief you on the way.  The longer we remain here, the more dangerous it is," O'Malley cautioned.  
  
Pieter nodded and picked up a case beside him, Johann did the same and the two civilians followed O'Malley from the shop.  The got into the back of the truck at O'Malley's gesture and as soon as O'Malley was seated, Soule had the truck moving down the road.  
  
**Somewhere over Germany, RAF B10 Cargo Plane,   
April 17, 1945, 2345 Hours  
**  
Lieutenant Stephen Chase was performing his tenth drop for Papa Bear. He knew the drop site and the signal by heart. This time, though, was the first time that he had passengers. They were two RAF officers, a Major Michael Killian and a one-star General, Kyle Birmingham. He was told nothing of their mission. Just that they would be jumping at the drop site. He knew enough not to listen in on any conversations.  It was much easier that way.  
  
General Birmingham peered out the nearest window.  The pilot had said they were still a number minutes from the drop site, but he couldn't see a damned thing.  There wasn't even a glimmer of light down there.  "All right Killian, as I said before, we don't know what we're dropping into here.  All London could tell me was that the agent known as Papa Bear was seriously injured, perhaps dead.  We're here to ensure that his operation continues.  HQ can't afford to lose this operation so close to the end of the war.  I was told that Papa Bear's operatives know what they are responsible for; they will be able to fill us in on what we need to know.  So keep alert and stay close."  
  
The pilot called back to them, "Drop in minus five."  
  
Birmingham and Killian checked each other's chutes one final time and watched as the plane's crew readied themselves to drop the boxes.  
  
"There's the signal.  Go," the pilot yelled again.   
  
The boxes were dropped first. Birmingham followed Killian into the cold night air, immediately after the boxes.  
  
**Hammelburg, Just outside of Town,   
April 17, 1945, 2345 Hours  
**  
LeBeau followed behind the truck on the camp's motorcycle.  He was to find the satchel containing the medication and return it to camp as soon as possible, leaving the others to deal with the more bulky boxes.  They arrived at the drop site and pulled the two vehicles off the side of the road and into the bushes.    
  
"The plane should be here very soon," Newkirk told them, glancing at his watch, as everyone else began watching the night sky.  
  
"Look.  There it is," Olsen said, pointing at the dark moving shadow.  
  
"Give the signal, Carter," Newkirk said watching the plane through his binoculars.  "They read us.  One, two, three packages.  Hey.  There are two other parachutes.  Men.  What's going on?  That's not part of the plan.  Let's not take any chances at this stage.  Let's make sure we get to them before they land. We'll have to capture them.  Speak German.  Remember we're dressed as goons. They're liable to shoot at you!  LeBeau, you're responsible for tracking those boxes.  The rest of you, focus on the chutes with the men.  Okay?"  The English Corporal received four nods as the others moved to intercept the parachutes.   
  
Newkirk had stayed by the truck with the binoculars, watching each package land, in case of any mix-up. But, he was very worried about the guys trying to capture the parachutists. He had to assume that they were probably Allied soldiers, but he couldn't trust anyone at this point. _There is too much at stake_.   
  
LeBeau returned first, having retrieved the medications.   
  
"Go, Louis," said Newkirk. "We'll meet you back at camp. Tell the Colonel and Kinch about our 'additional' packages. Let them know we are going to capture them as Germans, and treat them as prisoners, until we can know for sure what they are up to."  
  
"Okay, Newkirk. I'm on my way. Good luck," said LeBeau. He hopped on the motorcycle and left.  
  
Newkirk breathed a sigh of relief, as Carter, Olsen and Darby finally returned with the parachutists. He took over watching the prisoners as the other three went to retrieve the packages. He had both prisoners lie face down in the dirt with their hands behind their heads. He grumbled at them in German, giving each of them a nudge with his rifle, knowing that he had to make it sound good. And could, as the others had already disarmed each of the prisoners.  
  
**_Carter, Olsen and Darby worked for 45 minutes moving the boxes…  
_**  
Finally they had the truck packed. Carter and Olsen each retrieved a prisoner, and spouting in German, made the men climb into the truck and sit on the floor. The men of Stalag 13 kept their guns pointed at the head of each prisoner. Newkirk drove the truck back towards camp.  
  
**Somewhere over Germany, Papa Bear's Drop Site,   
April 17, 1945, 2400 Hours  
**  
General Birmingham found himself faced with the rifle of a German soldier, as he landed at the drop site. He had barely hit the ground before the soldier was in his face. He could do nothing but surrender, but hoped that Killian fared better, but was disappointed to find that the Major too was captured. Also he didn't understand much German, but it didn't take a lot to understand what they wanted. He and the Major were made to lay face down in the dirt for a long time. The Germans had split up to recover the packages.  Birmingham wondered if Papa Bear's operation had already been compromised. After what seemed like forever, they were forced into a truck. Clearly the soldiers weren't taking any chances. They each had their rifles squarely pointed at both he and Killian.   
  
Major Michael Killian tried to look into the faces of his 'German' guards.  He recognized both Sergeant Carter and Sergeant Olsen and was able to relax. _Whew. I'm in the right place._ When he had been assigned to General Birmingham, he was charged with a different mission than the General. Papa Bear had saved his life two years back after his plane had been shot down, and he was seriously wounded. He had to stay with Papa Bear and his men for over a month, before returning to England.  He knew Colonel Hogan and his men well. He just hoped he could fulfill his part of this mission. Killian was ordered not to tell his fellow prisoner anything about Papa Bear and his operatives until they arrived at their final destination. And even at that, he would leave that explanation to Hogan, or his men, if the Colonel wasn't able.  
  
**Luft Stalag 13, Barracks Two,   
April 18, 1945, 0100 Hours.  
**  
Hogan couldn't sit still. He was pacing in the main barracks. The men in Barracks Two, who were trying to sleep, couldn't. One by one they each left the barracks, because Colonel Hogan was making them nervous. They just assumed he was worried about all the away missions. Just as Hogan almost wore a tread into the floor though, LeBeau, Freiling and Kinch entered the barracks.   
  
"Colonel, take off your jacket," the doctor ordered, as he grabbed the package from LeBeau and began rummaging around in it.   
  
"LeBeau, did everyone return safely?" asked Hogan.  
  
"Sir, I returned alone by motorcycle to get the medications here as soon as possible. The others were going to pack the truck and head back here.  But, we did run into a problem. I was ordered to leave before it was resolved," said LeBeau.  
  
"What problem?" said Hogan to LeBeau, none too happy.  He noticed the doctor was ready to give him the medication. "Wait, Doctor.  Hold off on the sedative.  I need to find out where my men are," commanded Hogan.  
  
"Okay, Colonel," agreed the doctor placing that syringe back on the table.  He still gave Hogan the pain meds as well as the penicillin.  
  
"What problem?" demanded Hogan.  
  
"Sir, along with the three supply packages, there were two parachutists as well. Newkirk ordered them to be captured. He wanted you to know, they were going to act like Germans, and treat the parachutists like prisoners until they returned to camp. I left before the parachutists were captured," LeBeau reported.  
  
_What would these people be doing here?  _"LeBeau, continue with Newkirk's plan.  Keep them thinking they've been captured. Have Newkirk put them in the cooler.  Split them up. We need to question each one separately to determine what they have planned," Hogan ordered and resumed his pacing, hoping that his men could capture these guys without incident. His men were good, he knew that. They've had a lot of practice recovering parachutes and parachutists.  
  
**_Still it was another hour before the truck rolled through the gates…   
_**  
LeBeau was already there waiting for them. The prisoners were hustled quickly to the cooler. They never even noticed the Allied soldiers start emptying the truck.  
  
General Birmingham and Major Killian were split up. Each was thrown into separate cell. Birmingham demanded of his guard to see the Kommandant of the camp. His guard said nothing, but he grabbed for the General's dog tags, ripping them from his neck before he closed the cell door behind him.  
  
Major Michael Killian's guard had recognized him as he was brought into light of the building. He and Carter had become friendly during that month. Carter continued to play the part until Killian was secured in his own cell. "What are you doing here, Mike?" asked Carter in a whisper. "Let me have your dog tags," he said loudly in German.  
  
Killian replied also in a whisper, "I need to talk to you guys, before you talk to the General. It's very important, Carter."  
  
Carter nodded his understanding and left.  He told Newkirk and Olsen about Killian on the way back to the barracks. They entered Barracks Two to face the Colonel, who immediately asked if everyone was all right.  
  
"Yes, sir," said Newkirk. "Everything went well and the prisoners are secure. They are two RAF officers, a one-star General and a Major." He handed the dog tags to the Colonel. "Carter has something he needs to tell you about the Major."  
  
"Carter?" asked the Colonel.  
  
"Yes, sir, do you remember a wounded downed flyer Lieutenant Michael Killian, who was here some time back? He had to stay with us for a month before being returned to England," Carter asked of the Colonel.  
  
"Yes I remember. He was a good man," Hogan replied after a moment's thought.  
  
"Well, sir.  He's one of our prisoners, the Major. He recognized me and I, him. Killian told me that he needed to speak to us, before we talked to the General. He said it was very important, sir."  
  
"Okay, go get him.  Do it quietly.  I don't want the General to get suspicious," Hogan said, finally getting a chance to read the dog tags and immediately recognized the General's name.  He knew Kyle Birmingham. Kyle had been a Colonel, the commander of the 506th bomber squadron, when Hogan was the commander of the 504th.  Kyle had been a hot shot, and the two of them had never seen eye to eye -- on anything.  _So Kyle is a General now. Well, stranger things have happened.  
_  
**_Just a few minutes later…  
_**  
Killian followed Carter into the barracks and upon seeing Colonel Hogan, saluted.  "Colonel Hogan, you're ali…," he stammered and then recovered. "Major Michael Killian reporting, sir!" he finished smartly. He had been relieved to find Hogan alive, but was shocked to see the condition the Colonel was in. The man had a huge bruise covering almost the entire right side of his face.  He looked pale, shaky, and had apparently lost weight, and also seemed to be in a great deal of pain.  
  
"At ease, Major.  What is it you need to tell us?" Hogan asked.  
  
"Sir," Killian began, stopped and began again. "I'm sorry, sir, London had told us that you may be dead or incapacitated. I'm just glad to find that's not the case. It makes my part of this mission much more meaningful."  
  
"Continue, Major.  I don't have all night," Hogan ordered annoyed.  He had a sneaking suspicion where this whole thing was going, and he didn't like it.    
  
"Yes, sir. General Birmingham knows nothing of your operation other than that an agent named Papa Bear could be dead and his operation compromised. I believe he truly thinks the Germans have captured us. I was not to tell him anything that I knew about you and your men.  London didn't want to take any chances on losing this operation. Their orders to General Birmingham were very specific, sir.  He was to take over command of this operation, but only in the event that you could no longer continue in command."  
  
"So, Major," Hogan said evenly, the anger slowly starting to build. "What's your part of this mission?"  
  
Killian had noticed Hogan's demeanor change. Hogan didn't like being second-guessed by anyone. Killian came to attention once more, reached in his pocket and pulled out what looked like orders and a small case.  He said saluting, "Colonel Hogan, sir. On behalf of the United States Army, I hereby present you with these stars." Killian opened the case and presented them to Hogan. "Congratulations, General Robert Hogan, SIR!"  
  
Hogan stared dumfounded at the case with the stars, never even reaching for them. Killian continued, "Sir.  London wanted to make sure you knew that you had their complete support. They wanted you to know that Papa Bear could never be replaced. You now outrank General Birmingham by a full star.  Sir." Again he presented the case to Hogan.   
  
Hogan had not taken his eyes off the stars, until he had them in his hands. "Thank you, Major.  I don't know what to say."  He glanced up and looked around the room and saw his men start snapping to attention and saluting.  Each of them had a wide grin.  Hogan returned the salute, but not the grin. For his men, reality reasserted itself when they saw the Colonel's face.   
  
Killian didn't understand what was going on, as Hogan had not reacted as expected and now his men just seemed disheartened.  
  
Hogan said, "Major. You're free to make yourself as comfortable as possible.  Kinch, please keep General Birmingham confined until I have a chance to talk to him." The Colonel headed for his office indicating that Kinch and Doc Freiling should follow him. As he closed the door behind him, he leaned against it, letting his weight sag against the door. "I will take you up on your sedative now, doctor," he sighed, letting his weariness show.  
  
Colonel Hogan placed his new orders and stars on desk and turned back to Kinch. "Kinch, I want you to know that I expect you to be in charge of this operation if I die. You can keep that man locked up until the end of the war for all I care. Birmingham can't be allowed to take this operation over. He has no idea of the complexities involved."  
  
"It's not going to come to that.  Just get some rest.  You'll be fine," Kinch said softly, not knowing what else to say.  
  
"Kinch, I'm afraid this might be the last time we may have to talk. I'm afraid that if I fall asleep now, I won't wake up." Hogan glanced at the doctor, who didn't even try convincing him otherwise. "Take care of these people, Kinch. I'm entrusting them to you.  We've done a hell of a good job here, don't let anyone ruin it." Turning to the doctor, Hogan submitted, "Okay Doc, now or never."   
  
Doc Freiling rolled up Hogan's sleeve, gave him the sedative, and helped the officer into his bunk. It took no longer than a minute for Hogan to fall asleep.  
  
Kinch turned to the doctor with questioning eyes.   
  
"Sergeant, Kinchloe, I'm sorry. Colonel Hogan is still very much in danger. It won't be determined for almost another 24 to 36 hours if things have improved. His fears are not unfounded, we will just have to wait and see. This sedative should only last 6 to 8 hours. We'll see how he feels then," said the doctor.  
  
Kinch and Doctor Freiling exited Hogan's office, to the anxious faces of Newkirk, Carter and LeBeau.  They were all looking to Doc Freiling to give them something to cling to. "The Colonel, excuse me, the General is sleeping. You all know the situation.  It's still a waiting game. At least for now, he isn't in any pain and he can sleep." Doc Freiling left to go back to his quarters, as well. He had to be back in two hours, to continue his four-hour schedule for the General.  
  
Killian had been present throughout the doctor's speech. Hogan's men had explained the situation to him after the Colonel went to his office. The Major hoped for everyone's sake that Hogan would pull through, because in his short time with General Birmingham, he realized the General was not right for the job.  The General just gave him a bad feeling. _The General seems too rigid, and if any job needs flexibility it is this one.  
_  
Kinch never bothered to go to sleep after that, as he knew it was only 1½ hours until morning roll call, when he would have to explain this situation to Kommandant Klink.  So, he just sat at the table, lost in thought, until he heard the guards yelling for roll call.  Kinch assembled with the rest of the men, most of whom noticed that Hogan was not there. Sergeant Schultz gave his report and Kommandant Klink responded as always, though he had given Kinch a questioning glance.   
  
**_After roll call, Kinch approached Klink…  
_**  
Kinch indicated to the German Colonel, that they should head back to his office. Once they arrived Klink asked, "Has anything happen to Colonel Hogan, Sergeant?"  
  
"Kommandant, Colonel Hogan," _General Hogan,_ "is sleeping now. London was able to pull together a medical supply drop for him last night. He is now being treated with antibiotics, pain medication and sedatives. There is still the possibility that he will die.  The medication will not take effect for another 24 to 36 hours. Until then, the prognosis is still the same. If you'll excuse me Kommandant, I must return to the barracks.  I'll keep you informed," Kinch offered and headed back to the barracks.  
  
Saying nothing, Klink only watched as Kinch left his office. But as he turned and saw Schultz he said surprised, "Hogan must be an important man to the Allies for them to have done such a thing for him."  
  
"Jawohl, Herr Kommandant," Schultz agreed.  "He must be."   
  
**_As Kinch reentered the compound…  
_**  
A lot of the POWs were waiting on him. Captain Doug Morris came forward as spokesman.  "All right Kinch. What's going on? Colonel Hogan missed roll call. It's been obvious, that for the last few days, he's not been well. And now we have a General and a Major who have parachuted in. We want to know what's happening."  
  
Kinch knew he couldn't keep everything a secret, so instead of trying, he decided to tell the men everything he knew. They took it better than he thought they would. They were certainly worried about the Colonel, but Kinch had come away with their support. The consensus was that if Hogan did die, they would follow Kinch as his choice for a replacement.  
  
Kinch returned to Barracks Two and found Doc Freiling back in Hogan's quarters, already with another dose of medication. He saw on the doctor's face that nothing had changed. They would still have to wait.   
  
**_And Hogan slept on…  
_  
End of First Quarter_  
  
_**


	2. Second Quarter

This story chronicles what we felt were the last days of WWII in Luft Stalag 13.  The major historical events that we wrote about actually happened, though admittedly we took certain liberties on how they happened. The familiar Hogan's Heroes characters aren't ours; the rest are.  But they are free to use if you so wish. (Our only requirement here is that you do not use Toby unless you treat his character with tender loving care! He represents an important aspect of, or insight into, the authors' lives.) _ Hint… There will be a test later… Who is Toby?_   
  
**End Game  
Second Quarter  
**  
**Mission: Wurzburg Munitions Factory - Team Three  
Veitshochheimer Strasse, Farmland outside of Wurzburg,   
April 18, 1945, 0400 Hours  
**  
Lieutenant Peter Jenkins lay on his belly at the crest of a hill overlooking their destination.  They had left Stalag 13 the day before at one o'clock in the afternoon.  They had made good time and were now doing their last reconnaissance of the factory before they made their final plans.  But they had run into a major snag and were unable to approach the factory.  The goons had built a POW camp practically at the front door.  There was no way to blow the factory without taking the POW camp out as well.  Originally the factory covered almost ten acres of farmland, but now, one quarter of that space was cordoned off with new barbed wire creating the fence for the POW camp.  The camp was located inside the perimeter fencing of the factory.  The whole camp consisted of tent shelters; there were no permanent buildings, except one.  
  
"Where did that come from?" Lieutenant Joseph Paylor asked, ducking his head into the grass beside his companion as the searchlights from the new POW camp ghosted past them in the darkness.  They should be invisible from the compound as they were just over the crest of the hill, even though they were still able to see the factory grounds clearly.  
  
"I don't know, Joe," Jenkins replied.  "But this sure tears this mission up.  We can't do a thing without endangering those men down there."  
  
"What do you think we should do?" Paylor asked.  He and Peter Jenkins were the same rank, but Hogan had placed Peter in command of the mission.  
  
"Let's get back to the truck and see what the rest have discovered.  Unless there is something we haven't seen, we will need a new plan.  Perhaps even reinforcements from Stalag 13."  Jenkins wiggled backward, staying on the ground.  Joe kept pace with him. When they were well down from the top of the hill and the spot lights were illuminating the trees above them well over eight feet up, they cautiously stood up, moving further down the hillside.  The two made a detour around the new camp and silently moved eastward to where the truck was hidden behind a large hedge grove.    
  
They were the first of the team back to the truck, as their signal -- that they were approaching -- went unanswered.  Within five minutes two more men came in, Corporals Andy Moore and Jimmy Stokes.  The two young men shook their heads at their leader's questioning look.   
  
"It looks real bad," Stokes offered.    
  
The last two men, a Sergeant Dennis Callahan and a Corporal Tim Maloney, came in shortly after that.    
  
"Well?" Jenkins asked his men.  
  
He received five negative headshakes.    
  
"Couldn't get near the place," Callahan said.  "That bloody POW camp is right there at the front, and snakes around one o' the sides.  We can get at the factory for about 300 yards right at the extreme North edge, but any damage done is going to take out the POW camp."  
  
"I counted almost 35 guards between the factory and the camp.  We don't know how many are off duty, this being so early in the morning," Moore added.   
  
"One thing for sure, they won't believe the original plan that we're Gestapo investigating rumors of sabotage here.  No one would touch that factory with a camp right there," Jenkins said glumly.  "Does anyone have any ideas?"  
  
His question was met by silence.   
  
"All right, there's nothing we can do.  We'll spread out and try to work out what the routine is.  Maloney and I will return to Stalag 13.  We'll head back to inform the Colonel of the situation about 10 o'clock.  The morning will be well advanced and their routine should be obvious.  The rest of you will stay here. Joe, you'll be in charge.  We'll meet you back here," glancing at his watch, "later today, probably about 3 o'clock."  
  
**Mission: Schweinfurt Airfield - Team One  
Niederwerrner Strasse,   
April 18, 1945, 0900 Hours  
**  
Foster studied his map as Riggs drove along the road, looking up occasionally to check their position. The turnoff they were searching for was to be no more than a path through the woods off the road. "The turn-off should be just ahead."    
  
"Yes, sir," Riggs replied slowing the truck. "That was quite a performance at the last road block."   
  
"Can I help it that my orders are apparently signed by Reischsmarschall Goering?" Foster replied with a grin.  "Besides that poor sot will thank me later for relieving him of duty.  Just think that he gets to go home before the end!"  
  
Riggs laughed, "Of course if he's caught, he could be shot as a deserter."  
  
"Well, accident of war.  It happens," Foster replied.  "Slow down.  We should be almost on top of it."  
  
Riggs obligingly slowed the truck further.  "It's lucky there hasn't been much traffic.  I feel so exposed driving openly around in broad daylight!"  
  
"Well act like you belong here.  We're a troop of crack SS sent to take over security of the airfield," Foster reminded him as Riggs turned the truck from the paved road onto a track leading west into the woods.    
  
"Yes, sir," Riggs replied focusing his attention on getting the truck through the woods.  The track was barely wide enough for their vehicle, but the underground had assured them that they would be able to utilize the track for almost six miles before it widened into a smallish clearing where a small farm was located.  That was where they were going to meet up with their local underground guides.  From the farm there was supposed to be another dirt road that led to a local road that would put them quite close to their destination.  
  
Once they had entered the woods, they were plunged into almost the darkness of twilight.  The bright sunshine barely filtered through the thick trees to illuminate their way.  Finally, after traveling at a snails pace through the woods, they completed the six miles to their destination.  Suddenly they were in the clearing where the farm lay.  Foster had to squint in the sudden bright light.  Riggs had an arm up to shield his eyes while he drove.  It was a small farm with just three buildings all nestled in the bowl of the clearing.  On either side of the track, the fields showed signs of care.  Two of them already were plowed and ready for some sort of crop.  Riggs pulled the truck near the barn and cut the engine.  The men in back leaped out, taking up defensive positions.    
  
A young girl, who was at most sixteen, came out of the barn and approached them.  She was slender and blonde, her blue eyes serious.  She called out in a clear voice, "I hear that the strawberries are blooming."  
  
Foster grinned, the expression in sharp contrast to the somber uniform he wore.  "We came to pick daisies."  
  
Now the young girl was smiling as well, her eyes sparkling in amusement. "The bunnies have eaten them all, perhaps you would prefer some Johnny Jump Ups?"  
  
"What a hokey code," Foster said in German, extending his hand.  "I am Paul Foster.  Fraeulein …?"  
  
"Schlossburg.  Girta.  Welcome.  Please come into the house.  Grosspapa is expecting you.  I was just checking on the chickens, they've been bothered by some predator the last few days.  Probably a fox," Girta replied.  "I am very glad you speak German."  
  
Foster laughed.  "We all speak it, Papa Bear doesn't let anyone out who doesn't at least understand German."  
  
"He is a wise man," Girta replied relieved.  "It will make this easier.  Come in," she said opening the door to the house, leading into a small but cozy living room.  It was a friendly room, with a large raised hearth dominating the south wall where a fire burned brightly, taking the chill off the early April day.  The furniture while not new, was covered with bright cloth, the wooden floorboards shone with care and reflected firelight.  The windows were clear, with the blackout curtains drawn back to let the sunlight flood the room with warmth and brightness.  
  
Foster nodded at Sheoytz and MacDonald. Both men immediately took up posts to guard their position, MacDonald at the window, while Sheoytz went outside.  As MacDonald watched Sheoytz cross the yard to the barn, an older man came into the room, through a back entrance.  
  
"Papa Bear?" he asked, his voice thin and tired.  The man was dressed in work clothes. His body, while still strong, was beginning to show signs of age.  He was a small man, barely five and a half feet.  His head still had a full thatch of silver blond hair and his eyes shone with bright intelligence and character.  
  
"Nein.  Papa Bear sent us, however.  Paul Foster, Herr Schlossburg," Foster replied, introducing himself.  
  
The elder Schlossburg nodded.  "Geoff Schlossburg.  This is my farm.  It's just Girta and I here now. My two boys were drafted some time ago. Both are dead.  And even Girta's mother is gone as well.  Senseless, this madness is.  We do what we can."  
  
Foster nodded his understanding. "We were told that you would have some information for us?"  
  
Geoff nodded, "Girta takes the cart twice a week and sells eggs and milk at the airfield.  She knows the layout quite well. Siegfried Pfeiffer, the man who sells our milk in town, is due within the hour. He has the truck you requested.  It is stolen, unlikely to be traced to any of us.  Generally we have aided downed flyers and others north to the coast to get out of Germany. This is the first time we have done anything like this.  We were honored that Papa Bear called for our assistance.  Together, the three of us are called Canary."  
  
Foster smiled.  "Our contacts have spoken highly of your efforts here.  It is important that we have some local knowledge of what we were doing.  The plan calls for us to take over security of the airfield, and while there to sabotage it completely so that it could not be used again.  We brought enough explosives to do that job quite effectively.  The trick will be getting in there and knowing exactly where everything is so we don't look out of place."  
  
Geoff and Girta nodded their understanding. "Because we knew ahead of time why you were coming, I carefully drew a map based upon my last three visits to the field," Girta said smiling shyly, moving to a closet where she withdrew a large sheet of paper folded in fourths.  "I tried to memorize as much as I could and I drew it later.  I hope that it is clear, I've never had to map something before."  
  
Foster spread the map on the table near the fireplace, obviously where the two ate their meals.  The map was drawn neatly in pencil, with the many buildings of the airfield and the six runways the field utilized.  Each of the buildings was labeled, and there were numbers written between them.  "This is good.  What are the numbers?"  
  
"How many feet between things.  Grosspapa helped me with the math.  I memorized how many of my steps it took to get from place to place.  Many places I could not do that, as they were places I am not allowed to go, so I merely drew in what was there.  I am sorry, the scale is not precise."  
  
"Do not apologize, Girta.  This is more help than we anticipated," Foster said, with a charming smile at the girl.  "We will study this map.  Is there a place we can hide the truck we came in, until we need it later?"  
  
"Ja.  I will show you," Geoff said.  
  
"Allan, take care of that, ok?" Foster ordered.  
  
"Yes, sir," Gettings replied, following the old man from the room.  
  
"Girta, how far are we here from the airfield?" Foster asked, passing the map to King and Riggs to look at.  
  
"We are only five miles away, through the woods.  The road is rutted, but I have been getting the carthorse down it twice a week for almost two years now.  Once you come to the North road, turn right and the main gates for the airfield are about a half-mile.  You cannot miss the entrance as the road dead ends there," Girta replied.  
  
"Sir," MacDonald interrupted.  "A truck just drove into the yard."  
  
Girta looked out the window.  "It is all right.  It is Herr Pfeiffer."  
  
"All right, men, let's go," Foster ordered following Girta out the door.  Sheoytz met them at the truck as they arrived.    
  
"Other than for that truck, it's been quiet," Sheoytz reported to Foster.  
  
"Good," Foster replied turning to the driver of the new truck.  Herr Pfeiffer was a bald, stocky, older man, probably about 50.  He sort of reminded Foster of a picture he'd once seen of Winston Churchill, but without the double chins.  "Herr Pfeiffer, I presume?"  
  
"Ja. And you?" asked Pfeiffer.  
  
"Paul Foster," he replied.  "Thank you for the 'loan' of your truck."  
  
"Anytime," Pfeiffer replied with a grin.  "Its former owner is not likely to miss it."  
  
"All right.  Herr Schlossburg. You are to put up one of my men for a day. He will deliver our truck to the airfield with our 'security order' after dark tonight.  Will this be a problem for you?" asked Foster.  
  
"Nein.  He can be hidden in the barn.  There is a secret room.  It is where we have hidden many an escapee.  There is food and water always stored in there.  He should be most comfortable," Geoff replied.  
  
"Good. Gettings, stay here like we planned.  We'll see you tonight," Foster said.  
  
"Yes, sir," Allan replied.  "Where is this room, Herr Schlossburg?"  
  
"I will show you," Geoff replied, moving with Gettings into the barn.   
  
Foster gestured for the rest of his men to get into the truck.  Riggs took the drivers seat again.  "Thank you," he said climbing into the truck himself.  
  
"Keep safe," Girta replied.  Pfeiffer nodded.  The two stood and watched while the truck drove off.  
  
**Luft Stalag 13, Barracks Two,   
April 18, 1945, 1015 Hours  
**  
Freiling had given General Hogan his third set of antibiotics and pain medication after performing a thorough exam of his sleeping patient. He hadn't noticed any change to indicate that the hematoma had burst or gotten worse, although the General had gotten very restless during his examination and was probably going to wake up soon. Freiling decided to stay.  
  
As the General's restlessness grew worse, the doctor began to talk softly to Hogan to see if he could ease the officer back to consciousness. He placed his hand on Hogan's chest to aid in comforting the transition. "Take it easy," Freiling said softly. "It's all right."  After a few minutes, Hogan opened his eyes, slowly focusing on the doctor.  "You'll be stiff at first, just lay still.  Go slowly, son."  
  
"Son?" asked Hogan, staring at the doctor. His body felt very heavy. Movement was difficult and his head still hurt, although not quite as badly as before. He also realized his vision was still impaired.  
  
"Excuse me, General, that was very inappropriate of me. It won't happen again," Freiling said formally, as he checked for any sign of fever, and was relieved to note that still wasn't an issue.  
  
"Sorry, Doctor. I wasn't upset with you. I'd certainly rather have you call me son than General," Hogan said quietly, as he could only believe that he was made a General, because London thought he was dead. _Not quite something to be proud of.  
_  
"And why is that?  You should be proud of your accomplishments," reprimanded the doctor.  
  
"Now just isn't the time for personal pride, there's too much work to do. We need to work together to get through this endless war," Hogan said, frustrated. He tried to rise, and on his second attempt, was able to sit up slowly.   
  
"I understand.  How's the head?" Freiling asked realizing again what an extraordinary person this man was.  
  
"Actually, Doctor, it doesn't feel all that bad.  I had been feeling like I was getting kicked in the head by a mule every time I tried to breathe.  Now it's still painful, but I feel like I can breathe without wincing on every breath," Hogan answered.   
  
"You are not out of the woods yet. You've had three very heavy doses of pain medication. I believe at this point the medication is now masking the more serious pain of your head trauma. Please don't think that this is a cure. It will still be sometime before we can be sure," the doctor reminded him.  
  
"Okay, Doc. I understand," Hogan said as he stood and stretched, actually stretching for the first time since his injuries.  _It feels wonderful._  The dull ache of his other wounds had prevented him from trying. That pain seemed to be almost gone now.  _Remember it's just the medication. Don't push it. It's weird how much pain instills paranoia_. Hogan knew death could still be his future, but it didn't feel quite as ominous now.   
  
"Colonel, first you need to eat, and I don't want any argument," ordered the doctor.  
  
"No argument, Doctor," said Hogan, amazed to discover that he actually was hungry.  He hadn't felt hungry in over a week.   
  
"And I would prefer a regular sleep schedule for you.  I would recommend an alternating 8 hour schedule, until you've regained some strength," said the doctor.  
  
"Sleep 16 hours a day, Doc?  I don't think so. That's where I draw the line. I can't afford that. I promise I will come to you when I'm ready," Hogan said stubbornly.  
  
"All right. It's a deal." The doctor had known the sleep issue wouldn't past muster, but at least Hogan was agreeing to eat. _An improvement. I now know how to deal with this stubborn patient.  Misdirect him with the better of two evils, and he will acquiesce to one.  
_  
"Can I go, Doc?" Hogan asked starting to put on his bomber jacket and cap. He needed to make the rounds this morning, get something to eat and then figure out how he was going to deal with his unwanted guest.  
  
"Of course. Just take it easy. Okay?" asked the doctor.  
  
"Sure," answered Hogan. Glancing one more time at the promotion orders on his desk, his plan only to use them if Birmingham gave him grief. Other than that, they were unnecessary.  He left his office, followed by Doc Freiling, only to find Kinch, Carter, LeBeau, Newkirk, and Killian sitting or standing in almost the same places as last night. "Have you gentlemen nothing better to do?  You don't seem to have moved from last night," he said, as nonchalantly as possible, trying to make a joke.   
  
It didn't work, his men started to scatter with "Yes, sirs; No, sirs; and Sorry, sirs."  
  
"Whoa," Hogan said. "Whoa, guys, it was a joke. I'm sorry I said anything." There was a collective sigh of relief from the five men. Hogan realized he hadn't even attempted a joke in the past two weeks, as his mood had been understandably sour of late. He was just sorry he had his men so on edge. "Kinch.  I'm going to take a tour of the camp. Is there anything I should know?" Hogan asked.  
  
"Kommandant Klink was informed of the medication drop, as he was concerned when you did not appear at roll call. The men in camp now know of your medical condition and that of the situation with our guests. I'm sorry. I was confronted by a number of the men this morning.  I felt I could no longer keep the truth from them. Other than that, General Birmingham is pretty angry about being put off by the Kommandant of Stalag 13," Kinch replied.  
  
"Thank you, Kinch, I'm not sure I like everyone knowing, but I agree with your judgment to tell them. I am going to get something to eat and then I am going to take a tour of the camp. Will you retrieve General Birmingham in one hour?  I will talk to him then. That should give me chance to check in with everyone else. I haven't made up my mind of how I want to approach him, as far as he knows he is truly in a prison camp. I may just act as Senior POW Officer until he figures it out for himself. I haven't decided, so no tipping our hand. Okay?"  
  
"Yes, General," said Kinch.  
  
"Major Killian, you should probably return to your cell.  That way you won't be in trouble for lying to a superior officer and I won't have to explain how a Major was released first."  
  
"Yes, General," said Killian.  
  
"Okay. Now let's get something straight. I am not to be addressed as General. I will only resort to that, if General Birmingham tries to out maneuver me. If you've told anyone, spread the word that nothing has changed and I haven't yet accepted that promotion. Understood?"  
  
"Understood, sir," they replied somewhat bewildered, because by now, the whole camp knew. They all felt it was a promotion that was well deserved.  As a matter if fact, they had been trying to plan a celebration for the Colonel before he interrupted them. They had known that it would have to wait until after their new General was better and the rest of the men had returned, but it had given them something to concentrate on, other than the alternative. Now they didn't know what to do.   
  
But since they were all used to obeying his orders, the word would go out immediately that Hogan wasn't accepting the promotion for some reason.  For now, they could only watch, confused as their commanding officer left the barracks, with the German doctor trailing behind.  
  
**_After entering the compound…  
_**  
Hogan paused waiting for the doctor to catch up to him. "Doc, how are the families doing?"  
  
"They're adjusting okay.  It is a good thing you have some men on dedicated childcare.  Those kids are having a great time.  You should have seen them playing volleyball yesterday.  I've only heard a couple of comments about the barbed wire.  But as you know these people have pretended, lied, stolen, and cheated for what they've believed in.  They're tough.  They've had to be, their lives have depended on it.  They'll be okay," Freiling commented.  
  
Hogan nodded his understanding.  It was true these people were amazing.  As he walked toward the mess hall, he stopped and chatted with several groups of civilians who were in the compound, relieved to discover that the doctor's assessment of the civilians' morale was true.  After entering the mess hall, he dished himself up whatever was available.  It was gray and nondescript, but he ate it.    
  
When he was finished, he stacked his plate and he headed outside to make a tour of the camp. As Hogan walked and checked in on his men, he noticed that many more men spoke to him than was their custom.  Not everyone asked how he was, but most everyone wished him good morning.    
  
And Klink had also been relieved to see him.  Hogan had told Klink of the presence of the two officers from London, and that as far as he was concerned… if should he still die, Kinch was to be in charge.  He had asked if Klink or Schultz needed anything, but both had replied that they were doing well, and that his men were treating them very fairly.  
  
Hogan then left the Kommandant's quarters by way of the office and found Newkirk on duty, screening all calls.  
  
"Everything okay?"  Hogan asked.  
  
"It's been quiet," Newkirk replied.  "I've had the radio on.  But it has only been spouting a bunch 'o propaganda."  
  
"Well keep monitoring," Hogan said and left the building through the office door and headed into the compound.  
  
**Luft Stalag 13, Cooler,   
April 18, 1945, 1115 Hours  
**  
"'Raus. 'Raus," the guard said, gesturing for the prisoners to precede him down the hallway.  
  
General Birmingham glared at the guard but still moved down the hallway.  He had given up trying to talk with his guard, as it was apparent he didn't understand English.  Major Killian joined him as they passed by his cell.  And as they exited the building, another prisoner, accompanied by a guard, met them at the gate.  
  
"Welcome to Stalag 13," Kinch said.  "I am Sergeant Kinchloe.  I'm here to take you to the Senior POW Officer."  
  
"We haven't been seen by the camp's commanding officer yet.  This is a serious breach of military protocol and the Geneva Convention.  I demand to see the person in charge here," Birmingham demanded.  
  
"The Senior POW Officer will explain things to you, sir.  The camp Kommandant here speaks with the prisoners at his own pace.  It may be a while before he will send for you," Kinch replied hiding his smirk of amusement, knowing that he could have a lot of fun with this guy, although also knowing that the Colonel probably wouldn't stand for it.  "So if you please, sir, follow me."  
  
Birmingham glared, but followed the black Sergeant across a drab prison compound, examining everything he saw carefully.  There were three separate areas, outlined by barbed wire fences.  One area held civilians, another held what appeared to be German military personnel, the larger area held the Allied prisoners of war.  The whole camp was surrounded by a fifteen foot high, double fence.  At regular intervals there were towers manned by guards with machine guns.  The camp looked impregnable from first glance.  _But there has to be a way out.   
_  
The Sergeant brought them to a building labeled barrack two. "The Senior POW Officer will be here shortly.  He's in with the Kommandant now," Kinch told their unwanted guest, gesturing toward the building directly across the compound.  
  
Major Killian sat down on the bench outside the barracks. Carter had told him what was going on here earlier. He was impressed all over again at the level of organization that Hogan had been able to create here.  He was sure that the coming confrontation was going to be interesting.    
  
Birmingham had remained standing, but was leaning against the barracks wall.  _This sure puts a kink in things.  We came here for a very specific purpose.  Getting captured wasn't part of the plan.  From what I gathered Papa Bear has a big operation. I wonder if someone in this camp knows how to get in touch with him. I'll have to play it by ear, but time is against us.  London was sure that Papa Bear's organization was in jeopardy.  For all I know it could already be compromised.  We were captured even before we got our chutes off.  They knew we were coming._  The General sighed, but his eyes continued to rove over the camp.  His attention sharpened as he noticed several Allied soldiers apparently playing with the civilian children.  _This camp is one of contradictions.  Hopefully the Senior POW Officer will explain this camp's dynamics.  
_  
While Birmingham waited there, he also noticed many Allied prisoners starting to gather. They began lounging about in the area.  _It must be some sort of exercise period or something.  _He then noticed an American officer coming from the Kommandant's office.  _That must be the Senior POW Officer._  He nudged Killian and nodded at the approaching officer.    
  
The black Sergeant raised a hand to get the officer's attention.  As the man got closer Birmingham could tell that the officer was an American Colonel.  It also appeared that the man's face was severely bruised, and he did not appear to be in good physical condition.  
  
"Gentlemen, may I present Colonel Robert Hogan, the Senior POW Officer here," Kinch introduced as Hogan joined them.  
  
Hogan acknowledged the Major by nodding a greeting, then turned his attention to the General. "Hello, Kyle.  It's been a long time."  
  
"Rob!" Birmingham exclaimed, amazed.  The last time he had seen Rob Hogan they had both received orders to do a bombing raid over Hamburg.  During that sortie Rob's plane had been shot down.  He had assumed that Rob had been killed, as no one had ever heard from him after that.  "It's good to see you.  I thought you had been killed in that raid over Hamburg.  Have you been here the whole time?"  
  
"Yeah."  Hogan shrugged.  "I was captured soon after, and it's not like a guy can request a weekend pass around here." He didn't know how long he could keep this up without laughing. _Boy it felt good to want to laugh._ He noticed some of the men in the compound starting to enjoy the conversation too.    
  
Birmingham looked around again at the guards and barbed wire fence. He couldn't believe that the Rob Hogan he had known would ever be resigned to staying in a pit like this.  If Hogan's face was any indication of the treatment here, he may have been cowed into staying. _Bastards_. "I guess.  What happened to you?  You look like Hell."  
  
"Thanks for the compliment.  Believe it or not, this is a vast improvement.  I had a little tête-à-tête with a Gestapo Major a couple of weeks back," Hogan replied, but wanted to change the subject  "So tell me, Kyle, why were you jumping into this area?  You're lucky you weren't shot as commandos."  Hogan casually put his hands in his jacket pockets and remembered he still carried the men's dog tags.  "Oh.  Here. Your dog tags.  Courtesy of our beloved Kommandant."  Hogan handed the men their tags, while waiting for Kyle's answer.  
  
Birmingham was silent for a long moment, fingering his tags. His first instinct was to trust Hogan, but he couldn't be sure that three years here hadn't changed the man. Finally he decided that he couldn't take a chance just yet on what they were really doing here.  He was just trying to phrase his response, when an English accented voice interrupted.  
  
"Colonel!" Newkirk said, rushing up to Hogan. "Colonel!" He paused momentarily as he remembered Hogan's orders. "Oh excuse me, may I speak with you a moment in private, sir? It's very important."  
  
Hogan had by then turned at Newkirk's sudden appearance.  "What is it?" he asked, moving Newkirk further from the General's party.    
  
Birmingham couldn't figure out what could be that important to interrupt the conversation. _It isn't as if these men have all that much to do.  
_  
"Burkhalter just called, sir.  'e's on his way 'ere.  'e called from Hammelburg!" Newkirk reported unnerved.  
  
"Damn," Hogan muttered, knowing he didn't have time to play games with his guest any longer. "Kinch!" he yelled.  
  
"Here, sir," Kinch replied immediately, turning his attention to the Colonel.  
  
"Get ten guards together. Station them on the ground near the Kommandant's quarters," Hogan ordered. "Burkhalter is on his way here from Hammelburg.  We're going to have to take him prisoner.  We don't have time for anything else. I want snipers on the roofs.  Make sure the tower guards are ready. We don't know who he's traveling with."  
  
"Yes, sir," Kinch replied sprinting away, and yelling to the 'guards' in the compound.  
  
"Newkirk," Hogan continued.  "Get back on the phones. Keep me posted of any new developments."  
  
"Yes, sir," Newkirk replied, running back across the compound to the Kommandant's office.  
  
"LeBeau, Baker, get the civilians inside.  Olsen, pass the order to confine the camp guards in their quarters.  Carter, go get Schultz and Klink, bring them out on the porch.  I'll meet you there.  The rest of you get back to your barracks and stay there. Pass the word.  No one in the compound until the all clear is given," Hogan continued his rapid orders.  
  
Men who had been lounging around moments before ran off in all directions, leaving the compound suddenly empty. General Birmingham had just stood listening to the Colonel's rapid-fire orders. _What the hell is going on here?   
_  
Hogan turned back to his two guests, only one of who was standing there with a bewildered expression.  "Sorry, Kyle. I don't have time to explain now.  Major Killian, why don't you escort the General inside Barracks Two for me?  I'll be in as soon as we secure our unexpected visitor."  
  
"Yes, sir, Colonel Hogan," Killian replied rising and gesturing for his companion to enter Barracks Two.  Birmingham gave Killian a look of utter incredulity.  "General, it's a long story… sort of a fairy tale… about a Papa Bear," his voice trailed off as they entered barrack two.  
  
**Luft Stalag 13, Compound,   
April 18, 1945, 1150 Hours  
**  
Hogan had already explained to Klink and Schultz what was going to happen. He expected them to just stay on the porch of the Kommandant's building. That way they would be out of range off his snipers, but could appear to be waiting for Burkhalter, as the situation could become a little volatile… since no one was sure who or how many people Burkhalter would be with.   
  
**_Just a few minutes later…  
_**  
One of the tower guards called down to say that a single staff car was approaching Stalag 13. The car reached the gates and was allowed to pass.  Hogan's men signaled that there were only two people in the car, a driver and the General. Hogan relaxed a little. They should be able to handle the two of them. The car pulled up, the driver got out to open the door for Burkhalter. As soon as they were both out of the car, Hogan's men approached and were able to easily disarm the driver. And Burkhalter wasn't even armed.  
  
"What's the meaning of this, Klink?" Burkhalter yelled, panic rising in his voice.   
  
Klink didn't answer.  
  
Colonel Hogan approached the General from the porch instead. "Sorry, General.  I've had control of Stalag 13 for two days now. You are now a prisoner of war and will be spending the rest of this war in the cooler." With no further comment, Hogan motioned for one of his men to escort Burkhalter, as he really had no use for the man. "As for the driver, confine him with the former camp guards," ordered Hogan of another soldier.  
  
"Kinch," yelled Hogan. "Everything's clear. Stand Down. Kommandant, you and Schultz can return to your quarters."  
  
"Hogan," Klink asked, "what are your plans for General Burkhalter?"  
  
"No plans, Kommandant. He'll remain confined to the cooler until the Allies liberate this camp," said Hogan. "He will then be turned over to the liberating force to face charges for war crimes." Hogan paused and watched as Klink's face grew anxious, realizing that once again, he had put Kommandant Klink on the defensive. "Kommandant, you and your men will be safe, I will keep my promise." The Kommandant nodded and silently headed back to his quarters.  
  
Hogan headed immediately back towards Barracks Two, knowing he would now have to be honest with his guest. Hogan entered the barracks to find General Birmingham sitting at the table in the center of the barracks.   
  
Birmingham immediately stood and confronted Hogan. "What the hell is going on here, Colonel? What kind of crazy mixed up place is this?  POWs ordering German guards around – and what's this about Papa Bear?"  
  
"Which question would you like me to answer first, Kyle?" Hogan asked sarcastically. "To begin with, this camp has been under my control for two days.  My men captured you. They were to take no chances.  London didn't tell us you were coming. The former camp guards are being held in their quarters. The civilians you see are members of the local underground being given refuge here. The rest of the men in camp, including those dressed as Germans, are all volunteers. They all agreed to stay with me and work our subterfuge on the surrounding countryside. As you might have surmised by now, I'm Papa Bear."  
  
 "We were told that Papa Bear had been wounded and his condition had deteriorated. London was worried that you were dead or incapacitated. Can you explain what your present condition is?" asked Birmingham sternly. "Although I admit you don't look well, you don't appear to be severely incapacitated, and you are certainly not dead. Did you falsify your report to London? You could be court-martialed for that Hogan."  
  
As Birmingham finished that sentence, he found himself immediately confronted with the angry faces of Hogan's men. They had stood and converged on him. Their anger was palatable. He finally heard Hogan say, "Whoa guys, back off. I can handle this. At ease gentlemen," and watched as men just as quickly backed off.  
  
"Sorry, General.  My men are a little too protective of their commanding officer," Hogan replied. "As to my condition," he paused wanting to come up with a good lie and couldn't. He took a deep breath. "General, there was nothing falsified in the report to London. My life does hang in the balance. Without the medication drop, there was no chance of my survival. Now there's a small chance. The longer I can hold out, the better my chances will become." He paused again, not sure he really wanted to tell them everything.  
  
Birmingham responded quietly. "What's the problem, Colonel?" he asked genuinely concerned.  
  
"As a way of a short explanation General, my brain is trying to fight off an infection caused by the blow to my head that caused this," Hogan said indicating the bruised right side of his face. "Without antibiotics there was no way to stop the infection. Now I have a small chance, but no one knows how far the infection has spread. It's a waiting game," Hogan said quietly.   
  
"I'm sorry, Rob," Birmingham said. "So, I guess it's time I was honest with you as well then.  We were ordered to take over command of your operation if you were dead or incapacitated. I'm sorry to say, by your own admission those orders will have to stand.  Until some final resolution is found, I'm prepared to assume command here."  
  
"Excuse me, General.  I have admitted to nothing but a possible outcome. I'm quite capable of continuing in command of this operation. You also need to know that in that eventuality, I have given command of this operation to Sergeant Kinchloe.  He's my second in command here and his orders to command this operation will take precedent," Hogan responded, determined.   
  
"Don't be ridiculous, Colonel!  Who in this camp would follow a Negro's orders? You can't imagine that he could actually handle himself in command," Birmingham said.  
  
For a second time, the General found himself face to face with group of angry POWs. The only difference this time was that Colonel Hogan had gotten to him first. Hogan had him by the shirt and had shoved him up against a bunk. "General, you will never talk about my officer like that again! He will be in charge of this operation. If you don't cooperate, I can easily have you confined to the cooler with your German counterpart."  
  
Kinch jumped in to separate Hogan from the General. The General had been shocked at first, but now anger could be seen in his eyes. _The last thing Colonel Hogan needed was to get belted in the face, or anywhere else for that matter.  Although, I wouldn't mind changing places with Colonel Hogan._ "C'mon Colonel, it's not worth it. Let's break it up."   
  
Carter and LeBeau both grabbed the General as soon as they both realized what Kinch was doing.   
  
Once both officers were separated, Hogan took a deep breath, and repeated his threat. "I promise you, General, if you don't cooperate, I will have you confined to the cooler."   
  
**_Before anything could be settled between the two men…  
_**  
Lieutenant Jenkins, Team Three's leader, in full Gestapo regalia, came running through the barrack's door. "Colonel Hogan, sir, we've run into a big problem. The Wurzburg Munitions Factory has turned itself into a POW camp. They must have just done this, sir. Our reconnaissance never showed any of this. There are possibly 500 POWs being watched by 20 to 25 German soldiers. The problem is that they have camped the POWs at the factory door. We won't be able to blow the factory without killing those men."  
  
"All right calm down, Lieutenant," Hogan said, as he started to pace quietly.   
  
General Birmingham came to his feet, determined to gain some control over these proceedings. "Colonel Hogan, if the target is so important, the men there will have to be considered expendable. Everyone knows the risks of warfare."  
  
Hogan turned and stared angrily at the General. "No one is considered expendable General.  Although, I can always make an exception in your case.  If you continue to give me a reason, I may shoot you myself."  Hogan turned from the General to address his men.  "Okay. This could get complicated. We're going to have to convince the guards at the munitions factory that their orders have changed.  LeBeau.  How many SS uniforms do we have left?"  
  
"I'd say about fifty," LeBeau answered immediately.  
  
"Good. Get them on fifty volunteers.  Make sure they've got papers and the works on them.  We know how the SS have been commandeering men and sending them to the fronts. We'll tell them that Stalag 13 just got a new influx of prisoners and they've been ordered to transfer their prisoners here. We'll tell them we need them here as guards to control the growing number of POWs.  How many trucks do we have here?" Hogan asked, the plans already clear in his mind.  
  
"There are two in camp," Kinch replied.  
  
"We saw four at the Munitions Factory," Jenkins added.  
  
"That's six and one will be loaded with the guards from that camp. That doesn't leave enough room. We will need to make two trips for the POWs. They will have to be quarantined for medical exams when they arrive. The German NCO quarters can be turned into a triage ward, and Barracks Eighteen, nineteen, and twenty will be vacated for their quarters. We will need to double up on other barracks," Hogan continued his mind racing.   
  
"The POWs are living in tents, Colonel," Jenkins reported.  "They could be brought back as well."  
  
"Good.  That will make another trip with the trucks, though.  Kinch, get everyone started on all of that. Make sure you tell the doctor.  Jenkins, come with me.  I need to know exactly what the situation is there as the original plan for blowing the target has to be revised as well," Hogan ordered rapidly, heading for his quarters followed by Jenkins.  
  
General Birmingham was just floored.  He had sat back down at the table after Hogan's outburst about shooting him. _The man is impossible_. All he could do was sit back and watch Colonel Hogan's mind run through the problem. He was amazed that Hogan had come up with a contingency plan that could save the lives of the POWs and blow the target, within 5 minutes of the problem.   
  
Hogan had emerged from his quarters with Jenkins only a short time later and then spent the next hour hashing out the specifics with the rest of his men. Occasionally one man would leave to fulfill some task. It took no more than two hours and Hogan's fifty volunteer SS were on their way back to the Munitions Factory with Hogan seeing them off personally.   
  
General Birmingham had watched as Hogan and his man Kinchloe interacted, and had to admit that the Sergeant was a very exceptional officer. From what he saw, Hogan and Kinchloe made an incredible team. His only recourse now… was to swallow his pride and apologize to both.  
  
**Mission: Schweinfurt Airfield - Team One  
Schweinfurt Airfield,   
April 18, 1945, 1430 Hours  
**  
Riggs stopped the truck at the gate of the airfield.  Foster turned to the guard who approached and said, "Let us pass.  I am Major Foerster.  We are expected."  
  
The guard saluted,  "Ja.  Ja.  Papers please, Major."  
  
Foster pulled the documents from his coat's breast pocket and handed them to the Corporal.  "We are in a hurry, Corporal."  
  
"Jawohl.  Everything is in order, Major," the Corporal said returning the papers, while hastily motioning for the other guard to raise the barrier.  
  
Riggs drove the truck through and pulled it up next to the building marked office.  The men all jumped from the truck and formed rank.  Foster made a show of examining them before leading them into the building.  From now on, they were an elite SS squad and would act like one.  He led them directly to the Flight Officer's office.   
  
"I wish to speak with Colonel Schroeder.  Sofort," he demanded, looking down his nose at the clerk who occupied the outside office.    
  
"Colonel Schroeder is in his officer, Herr Major," the clerk said shakily. The poor man didn't even ask for any identification, he just let them pass.  
  
Foster brushed past the ineffective clerk and entered Schroeder's office.  He did not knock.  
  
"What is the meaning of this?" Schroeder asked looking up from his desk, which was cluttered with papers. Schroeder was an average looking man of probably forty years of age.  He stood almost six feet, had short-cropped black hair, and was wearing a neat Luftwaffe Colonel's uniform. The man shot to his feet, clearly very nervous at the appearance of the SS Major.  "Sorry, Herr Major.  What can I do for you?!"  
  
"I believe you were expecting us, Colonel?" Foster said, playing the part of the arrogant SS Major to the hilt.  
  
"Ja.  You are Major Foerster?" Schroeder asked.    
  
"Ja," Foster said with a scowl.  "You were perhaps expecting someone else?"  
  
"Nein.  Nein.  The orders came yesterday, Herr Major.  I just don't understand why Herr Goering wanted to take security from my men…."  
  
"You are questioning the orders of Reischsmarschall Goering?" Foster asked, his voice silky smooth.  
  
"Nein.  Nein!" Schroeder replied hastily.  "I would be most happy to turn the security of this airfield over to you!"  
  
"There, you see, your first mistake.  No one in your office even asked to see my papers.  At least the Corporal at the gate asked for my orders.  But even he did not confirm them.  Sloppy.  Inefficient.  I am sure if this is how you run your office, your airfield must be in terrible shape.  We must ensure that for the next several days security here is in top order," Foster said, setting up the charade that he and his men would only be here temporarily, and that there was a more important reason for their presence.  
  
"We are a small airfield, Major, with only a few squadrons…." Schroeder began. His forehead was damp with nervous perspiration.  
  
"Enough." Foster turned and began to walk out.  He stopped when Schroeder did not follow him.  "Are you coming, Herr Colonel?"  
  
"What?" Schroeder asked.  
  
"A tour of the field?" Foster prompted dangerously, enjoying his part.  This Colonel was almost like dealing with Klink.  _He's a nervous wreck_.  Foster wondered if perhaps Schroeder had something more to be nervous about_.  Maybe some creative bookkeeping?  Maybe even black market activities.  An airfield would be a perfect place for such an operation._  Not that he cared, nor would he look.  But he would have to play his part well, but not so well as to be a threat worthy of being knocked off if that was indeed what Schroeder was doing.  
  
"Ja.  A tour.  Certainly. Coming," Schroeder replied, placing his uniform cap on his head. He spent the better part of an hour showing his unwelcome new security detail around the airfield.    
  
**_After Schroeder returned to his office…  
_**  
Foster turned to his remaining four men.  "Patrol in pairs.  Split up.  You know what you're looking for.  Report back here in three hours."  
  
"Yes, sir," the four men replied and they moved off.    
  
They were to locate the best places for the charges to be positioned, while he familiarized himself with the office buildings.  They would have to be demolished as well.  Hogan didn't want any part of this post operational.    
  
While Foster was touring the office building, one of Colonel Schroeder's men summoned him to Schroeder's office.  "What is it that you wanted, Colonel?" Foster asked barging into Schroeder's office, pretending annoyance at the interruption of his duty.  
  
"Sorry, Major. I wanted to inform you that I have just received notice from Berlin that your VIP is on his way here," Schroeder began nervously.  
  
Foster looked at the man blankly for a moment, and then he collected himself.  "They didn't tell you who he was, did they?" he demanded_.  Just who the hell could be coming here from Berlin?_  He had only said that to ensure that he and his men would not be interfered with as they went about fulfilling their mission.  
  
"Ja.  Goering.  I am to have a plane ready for him.  He will be arriving tomorrow evening," Schroeder began. He was sweating again.  _Goering is coming here!  
_  
"Silence!" Foster yelled, his mind working furiously.  _Goering would be quite a feather in Colonel Hogan's cap!_  "Those imbeciles were not to mention his name!  You are to tell no one he is coming!  The runway you must use is number six.  You are not to use number six at all tomorrow.  The security there must be airtight.  Herr Goering is on a special mission and must not be delayed!"  
  
"Ja. Ja.  I understand," Schroeder replied.  
  
"Excellent.  I must go.  The Reischsmarschall is early.  He was not to arrive until the weekend," Foster said, in as much of a hurry to leave Schroeder's office as Schroeder was to get rid of him.    
  
Foster went in search of his men.  There were plans to be made if they were to take Goering back to Stalag 13 as a present for the Colonel.  He looked at his watch, estimating that Gettings would arrive with the truck in another hour.  They still had to wire the explosives tonight as well as plan how to capture Goering.  
  
**Luft Stalag 13, Barracks Two,   
April 18, 1945, 1430 Hours  
**  
Birmingham and Killian were sitting quietly at the center table as Hogan and Sergeant Kinchloe returned to Barracks Two, along with an older German civilian, who had followed them into the barracks.   
  
"Colonel," offered the German rather sternly. "It's time for your medication. I'd prefer if you got some rest. We've all had a stressful morning."    
  
Hogan just gave the doctor a look of apathy and said nothing.   
  
"Fine, Colonel," continued the doctor giving in. "Just take it easy.  Okay?"  The doctor made the Colonel remove his jacket and roll up his sleeve, and then he administered the meds and performed a quick and dirty examination of Hogan's face. At first he said nothing to Hogan, but as he started to leave, turned back and asked very sarcastically, "So have you eaten anything since this morning, Colonel?"  
  
"I will, Doctor.  I will," replied Hogan acquiescing.   
  
Kinch exchanged a knowing look with the doctor as he left and then turned toward Hogan with a sheepish grin.   
  
"So you both are in cahoots," Hogan said lightly.  
  
Kinch merely smiled.  
  
Hogan had pointedly not made eye contact with the General after entering the barracks. When he did, he began evenly, "General.  I guess we have to clear up some things."  
  
"Rob.  Before this gets heated, I'm going to apologize to you. And I owe your Sergeant Kinchloe an apology as well. I was out of line. Watching you and your men for the last two hours, I've realized I'm not experienced enough to take this operation over.  Killian and I are here to help for the duration. I promise we will do nothing to interfere with your plans."  
  
Hogan had been ready for a fight, but now had to choke back a response that had already been planned. Taking a deep breath he said, "Apology accepted. I should apologize to you as well. You see, my men and I were told of your orders, right after you were picked up and brought back here. London sent a ringer along with you, General.  Major Killian here spent a month with us a couple years back. His orders were to make sure you ended up in the right place. And he was to tell me of your orders. London wanted to make sure they covered all bases, since they didn't know my status. Their unconditional orders were that I still controlled this operation."  
  
"Okay, Rob," Kyle said giving Killian a sideways glance.  "Like I said we are here to help. No more jockeying for position. I now know my place."   
  
"Thanks, Kyle." Hogan reached out to shake his hand.    
  
The General responded in kind, then turned to Kinch and extended his hand. Kinch accepted graciously. "So. When you get some time, Hogan, will you give me a run down on your operation?" Birmingham asked.   
  
"Sure, you hungry? I need to take the good doctor's advice and get something to eat. We can talk there," Hogan said, realizing that Kyle and Killian did not yet understand the food rationing rules of the camp.  
  
"Let's eat," said Birmingham.   
  
"Kyle, before we go," Hogan said before leaving the barracks.  "I wanted you to know that this camp is under strict rationing.  We are still providing two meals a day, though the portions served are strictly enforced.  I wanted to make sure you both understand, so there will not be a scene in the mess hall.  So with that in mind, you might want to eat later on. You were fed this morning, and this will be it for you for the rest of today.  I'm going to eat now, and you are welcome to come with me."  
  
"We'll eat with you Colonel," Birmingham replied, glancing at Killian.  "We'll follow your lead."  
  
"Good," Hogan replied, leading the way across the compound.    
  
Hogan and Kinch spent the next hour going over everything, to get the men up to speed.  They hadn't told them everything, but enough so they understood the missions going on now.  
  
"Incredible, Hogan, the camp Kommandant and guards here must be idiots, to let this all creep up on them," said Birmingham and immediately knew that he must have said something wrong again, as Hogan's face grew dark, not angry, but sad.  
  
"Listen, Kyle," Hogan began. "There are no idiots in this war. People, Axis and Allied alike, are trying to survive this war the best they can. Some are more capable than others. Some are just trying to hide from it. It took me a while to understand that. It was much easier as a bomber pilot not to care that real people existed under your bombs.  But once you start dealing with people one on one, you realize that people are exactly the same the world over. Don't get me wrong, there are some 'animals' involved in this war that I would love to see taken from this world.  It's just not as black and white as I began this war thinking it was."    
  
Birmingham didn't respond to Hogan's little speech. This place had indeed changed his former colleague. He remembered Hogan as a carefree, highly decorated, and daring pilot. This Rob Hogan was introspective and philosophical.  Hogan now acted like he was carrying the weight of the whole war on his shoulders. And if half of what Birmingham had heard in London about Papa Bear was true, he was.  
  
Hogan stood, not sure whether his comments had meant anything to the other man.  "Excuse me gentlemen. Kinch, please show the General and the Major our operation.  Kyle, you can bunk in with me. Kinch, you might have to move some folks around, but make sure Major Killian has a bunk tonight.  I'm heading back to the barracks."  
  
"Yes, sir," Kinch replied.    
  
General Birmingham watched Hogan leave the mess hall, noticing that the man was now walking slowly and looked very stiff.  Birmingham hadn't noticed that earlier in the day.  He wondered if Hogan had additional injuries that he hadn't been told about. He'd go see him later and ask, without the rest of his men around.  
  
**Mission: Wurzburg Munitions Factory - Team Three  
Veitshochheimer Strasse, Farmland outside of Wurzburg,   
April 18, 1945, 1520 Hours  
**  
The two trucks carrying the 'SS' from Stalag 13 pulled into the small hidden clearing that Jenkins had utilized earlier that morning.  He gave the signal and his four men came out of the woods.  
  
"How is it looking Joe?" Jenkins asked stepping out of the passenger side of the lead truck.  
  
"It's been quiet.  We think though, that our original count of 500 men is pretty close.  The men are mostly RAF with a smattering of the other Allied forces, mostly American. The good news is the number of guards we estimated is high.  The majority of the guards are at the factory, not the camp," Paylor reported.  "What's the plan now?"  
  
"Sergeant Flynn is going to take 'our' SS and empty that camp.  The camp guards will be reassigned to Stalag 13 and the POWs will be transferred there as well.  I brought you four a change of uniform.  We're now all SS. We will still be taking out that factory.  So hurry, change and I'll brief you.  Then we can get started," Jenkins said.    
  
Sergeant Kevin Flynn was dressed as a Colonel in the SS and looked quite menacing.  Flynn was one of the few men in camp who was not a downed flyer, but rather he was a marine.  He had been on a troop transport that had been shot down, and through a series of transfers had found himself a prisoner at Stalag 13.  Once there, he had taken to Hogan's operation like a fish to water.  He was also older than many of the men held in camp so he was perfect for the part.   
  
**Mission: Wurzburg Munitions Factory - Team Three  
Luft Stalag Camp 19,   
April 18, 1945, 1600 Hours  
**  
The two trucks stopped at the barbed wire gates of the new prison camp.  Flynn shouted at the guards to open the gates.  One came outside to demand their papers, but everything went smoothly.  So smoothly, that once they were admitted, the Corporal at the gate only pointed the way to the Kommandant's office.  The trucks halted there. Flynn, Jenkins and three of their men entered this camp's Kommandant's office, while the rest of his men, formed ranks and waited outside the office building.   
  
"I wish to speak with the camp Kommandant," Flynn stated emphatically to the desk clerk seated there.  
  
"Yes, sir.  Please go in.  Major Kalb is expecting you," the clerk replied, having received the call from the front gate informing the office of the visitors.  
  
"Ah.  Herr Major," Flynn said as he entered the office and began his charade.  He carelessly threw the forged orders on the Major's desk. "I am Colonel Fleischer. I have orders to relieve you of this command.  You and your men will all be transferred."  
  
"Transferred?  But Herr Colonel, we just opened Camp 19 last week.  Surely there has been some mistake!" the Major protested, picking up the orders with sweaty palms.  A transfer meant to the front lines, and that was almost surely a death sentence.  
  
"The SS never makes mistakes!" Flynn yelled, doing a passable imitation of the raging Major Hochstetter. _May he rot in Hell._  "You are to be transferred to another Luft Stalag, Stalag 13, in Hammelburg.  Many more Allied prisoners are being sent there. Your men will be needed to keep order."  
  
"Jawohl, Herr Colonel.  I will gather my men," the Major offered, visibly relieved at the location of his transfer.  
  
"Dummkopf!" Flynn hollered. "You must take your prisoners as well!"  
  
"Of course, Colonel," the Major stuttered.    
  
"Excellent," Flynn said, casually picking up the discarded orders and replacing them in his pocket.  They had been a rush job and probably wouldn't stand much scrutiny.  "Now.  You and your men will go first.  My men and I will see the prisoners to their new prison.  It is imperative that you arrive as soon as possible. Therefore, I will have my drivers take you.  They already know the way to Stalag 13.  How many trucks does your camp command?"  
  
"We have five trucks here currently. We just finished moving here last week and they haven't been reassigned yet," Kalb replied.    
  
"Good.  I hereby commandeer those trucks.  Get your men and prisoners organized.  You and your men will be leaving here in two hours, along with the first shipment of prisoners."  
  
"Jawohl.  I will give the order," Kalb replied, standing.  
  
"Do so," Flynn replied.  
  
"Sergeant Vogel!" the Major yelled out.  
  
"Jawohl, Major Kalb," the desk Sergeant replied entering the office, obviously in anticipation of his commander wanting him.  
  
"We are being moved.  Inform the guards that we will be leaving in two hours.  Then call for a roll call of the prisoners.  Sofort!" the Major ordered.  
  
"Jawohl, Herr Major."  The Sergeant saluted and hurried from the office, followed by the officers in the room.  
  
"Captain Jaeger," Flynn said when they reached the compound.  
  
"Here, sir," Jenkins replied appearing at his superior's side immediately.  
  
"Inform the factory manager, Herr Herzog, of the change in status here," Flynn ordered.  
  
"Jawohl," Jenkins replied, gesturing for his original five-man team to assemble.  The six of them began the walk to the factory entrance, not more than a hundred yards away.  
  
"Major Kalb, shouldn't you be addressing your prisoners?" Flynn prodded noticing that the Allied prisoners had assembled in record time.  _Discipline here must be fierce.  
_  
Kalb turned and walked to the front of the prisoner formation.  Flynn trailed along behind with three of his men.  Kalb addressed the prisoners in heavily accented English.  "You will all be transferred to another camp.  This camp is closing.  The SS are here to escort you to the new camp."  
  
Flynn noticed that there were no catcalls or protests from the ranks.  _A statement like that one back 'home' would have had everyone complaining.    
_  
Kalb continued, "You will each gather your effects and strike your tent.  Major Boynton, assign a detail to pack the provisions in the mess tent.  You will be ready to go in two hours.  Any who are not ready will be shot.  Dismissed!"  
  
The prisoners left their formation and immediately set about striking camp.  Flynn kept his face impassive with a struggle.  One of the men flanking him muttered angrily.  Flynn shot the mutterer a look that quickly silenced the man.  When Kalb turned back to him he hastily got back into his role.  "You are tough with them.  Good.  Too many Luft Stalags are too lenient with the prisoners.  However, your prisoners appear to be in good condition."  
  
"They come from two other camps and were brought here.  We didn't have time for the sick or infirm.  They will not hold you up Herr Colonel, if that is what you are asking," Kalb informed him.  
  
"Very good.  You have two hours, Herr Major," finished Flynn.  
  
**Mission: Wurzburg Munitions Factory - Team Three  
Munitions Factory, Outside of Wurzburg,   
April 18, 1945, 1610 Hours  
**  
When Jenkins and his men arrived inside the factory the plant manger, Herr Herzog, met them.  Herzog was a short, overweight, balding civilian in his fifties.  He wore black frame glasses and was dressed in a slightly rumpled business suit.  "I am Fritz Herzog, the plant manager.  What can I do for you, Herr Captain?" Herzog asked.  
  
"I am Captain Jaeger. I am here to inform you that the POW camp on your grounds will be moved, no later than tomorrow," Jenkins told him.  
  
"But, Herr Captain, they were just moved here last week by order of General Burkhalter.  Surely this is a mistake!" Herzog protested, worried that the protection he had been given by the presence of so many Allied prisoners was to be taken away.  
  
"I have my orders, Herr Herzog.  You are welcome to try to contact General Burkhalter, but you will find that the General is quite aware of this transfer of personnel," Jenkins replied, grateful that one of the men in the truck on the way here from camp had told him that Burkhalter was now a guest of Colonel Hogan's at Stalag 13.  Herzog would never be able to locate him to confirm the orders.  
  
"You can be sure that I will confirm these orders, Herr Captain," Herzog replied haughtily.  
  
"As you wish, Herr Herzog, but the prisoners and guards will be moved starting immediately.  Heil Hitler," Jenkins replied, turned on his heels, and led his men from the factory.  Their job here was done.  The rest of the job would be completed from the POW camp, as well as the woods on the north side where Sergeant Callahan had reported an easy access.  
  
**Mission: Wurzburg Munitions Factory - Team Three  
Luft Stalag Camp 19,   
April 18, 1945, 1800 Hours  
**  
Sergeant Flynn stood by and watched the first seven trucks leave the camp for Stalag 13.  The first truck held Major Kalb and his men.  The other six trucks held the first group of Allied prisoners, numbering almost half the population of the camp.  He and his men needed to keep up the charade of being SS, though. He wanted no problems from any of the Allied prisoners they were moving, though he wished he could tell them the truth as the naked fear in some of the men's eyes was hard to dismiss.  But he knew that even if they were told the truth, these men wouldn't believe it.  
  
Flynn turned his attention to the camp he was dismantling.  He still had another 250 men to move, plus all of their gear.  The trucks weren't due back here until 2300.  He figured it would take another hour to load the rest of the prisoners.  Once the last group of men was on their way, Lieutenant Jenkins and his team could begin to set the explosives.  When the trucks arrived back here from their second trip to Stalag 13, the explosives should be set, and all that remained was to pack the trucks with the tents and provisions from this camp.  All of the men in his team would leave, taking all but one truck with them. Jenkins and his team would stay in the area to ensure the explosives went off as planned.  
  
**Luft Stalag 13, Colonel Hogan's Quarters,   
April 18, 1945, 1800 Hours  
**  
General Birmingham had left Major Killian with the German children in camp. As they had gone by, Killian noticed a bunch of them trying to play volleyball.  Killian politely excused himself.  He had been an Olympic hopeful for their country's volleyball team, until the war intervened.  He couldn't resist the chance to join in their fun. Soon he had everyone's undivided attention as he was demonstrating the proper techniques.  
  
Birmingham had returned to Barracks Two remembering what Rob had said earlier, that he would be sharing his quarters. However, he didn't want to disturb Hogan if he was asleep, so he poured himself a cup of coffee and seated himself at the table.    
  
Having finished his tour of the camp, both above and below ground, Birmingham just had to shake his head in disbelief.  The complexity of this organization simply boggled his mind.  He had noticed during his tour that the personnel mix here was unique.  In some instances he had seen subordinates giving orders to their superiors.  _I will have to add that to my list of things to discuss with Rob.   
_  
Birmingham looked up suddenly as the door to Hogan's quarters opened, revealing the elderly German physician. "Try to get some more rest, Colonel," he heard Freiling say to Hogan as he closed the door behind him.  
  
"How is he doing, Doctor?" Birmingham asked, as the doctor went to pass by him.  
  
"About the same," Freiling replied, not willing to give the General any information.   
  
"What does that mean?" Birmingham asked frustrated.   
  
"It means, that you will have to take that up with the Colonel. If you will excuse me, General," the doctor replied, leaving the barracks.  
  
Birmingham rose and knocked on the Colonel's door.  
  
"Come," Rob said.  
  
"Do you want some company?" Birmingham asked as he opened the door, but stopped in his tracks, shocked by what he saw.  Rob stood there, his shirt in his hand, obviously dressing after the doctor had examined him.  Rob's torso was one massive purple bruise, his ribs were wrapped, and there appeared to be two surgical incisions, one vertical down to his naval and the other was horizontal along his left side.  He also appeared to be nothing more than skin and bones.  His bomber jacket had covered a great deal.  "My God!"    
  
Hogan turned away, never expecting that his visitor would be Birmingham. He'd assumed it would be Kinch.  If he had known it was Kyle he wouldn't have allowed him in until he'd gotten his shirt back on.  Of course now, after the doctor's exam, that little chore was going to take some effort.  The doctor had poked and prodded, applying pressure to his chest and stomach to assess his pain tolerance.  He was now extremely stiff and sore.    
  
"What is it, Kyle?" Hogan asked, trying to casually put his shirt on.  
  
"What the Hell happened to you?!" Kyle demanded, coming up behind his long-time friend. "Here. Let me help."  
  
Hogan didn't reply, but let Kyle help him get his shirt on.  Once he had the shirt on, he turned to face Kyle again.  "Thanks, I wasn't sure how I was going to get it on again.  After one of the Doc's more thorough exams, it's a lot harder to do."  He then tried to change the subject, "Is there something you wanted Kyle?"  
  
"Yeah. What the Hell did those animals do to you?" Kyle repeated.  
  
"Like I said earlier, I had a tête-à-tête with the Gestapo.  Very thorough, the Gestapo," Hogan continued, after sitting down on the bottom bunk and staring at the floor.  "It was a rough night." He paused. "Getting shot and almost beaten to death takes a lot out of a guy."  He then looked into Kyle's eyes resolutely and said, "But that was two weeks ago, and there isn't time to dwell on it now."  Hogan hoped that would end the conversation, because he really didn't want to relive the experience.  
  
"I'm sorry, Rob.  If there is there anything I can do?" Kyle offered, but knew full-well that he wasn't going to get any more information from Rob.  Kyle was just amazed that Hogan was even walking.  And that he'd been able to keep the pain well hidden from everyone during the day.  
  
"No.  Nothing.  Is there something else you wanted?"  Hogan asked, leaning back against the wall behind him.  
  
Kyle moved to seat himself on the stool that was the only other place to sit in the room.  "Yeah.  I've noticed that you have some very interesting dynamics here in camp," Kyle replied, fingering what looked like mission plans on the desk he was sitting at.  Suddenly his attention sharpened at the seal on a hinged box at the upper corner of the desk.  Under the box was an unopened envelope displaying the same seal.  He recognized the seal. They were promotion orders.  
  
"What dynamics are you talking about, Kyle?" Hogan asked, trying to distract the General after noticing that Kyle had seen his promotion orders.  
  
Kyle stood suddenly, the box and envelope in his hand.  "Colonel, don't you think you should open these?"  
  
"Those contain nothing that has any bearing on our work here," Hogan said. He stood and retrieved the envelope and box from Kyle, and placed them back on the table.  "So what do you want to know about the dynamics in camp?"  
  
"You're a stubborn bastard, do you know that?" Birmingham said, annoyed with the obstinate junior officer.  "You know I do outrank you.  I can order you to open those orders."  
  
"Don't," Hogan replied unwavering, as he sat back down on his bunk.  "Just leave it alone."  
  
"No.  I won't leave it alone.  You should know what these orders contain," Birmingham replied offering the envelope back to Hogan.  
  
"I already know what's in them.  Major Killian brought them from London with him," Hogan said, not taking the envelope.  "They're only here because London thought I was dead."  
  
"That's ridiculous Rob.  London doesn't just hand stars out for no reason," Kyle said opening the box to get Hogan to look at it.  He stopped short at what was in the box.  There were two stars there.  Hogan outranked him.  "Rob, you're being an idiot! These things don't come in pairs! Open the damned orders," Kyle said exasperated.  
  
Hogan looked up startled by that statement.  _That is true. They don't come in pairs._  Everything had been hitting him all at once that he never once considered that normal fact of military life, especially since his military life hadn't been normal for a long time now.    
  
Kyle offered the envelope back to Hogan, noticing how Rob had reacted to his statement.  _This is the first time I've seen the man perplexed since I arrived.  
_  
Hogan slowly reached for the envelope and opened it.  Inside there were two pieces of paper.  The first promotion was dated three months after his arrival at Stalag 13, and the second one was almost a year and a half ago.  Hogan stared at the papers for a long moment and then returned the orders to their envelope. He rose and put both box and envelope back on his desk.  
  
"It still doesn't make any difference to our work here," Rob told Kyle.  "So what do you want to know about the camp dynamics?"  
  
"Fine," Kyle said, completely frustrated.  "You're impossible.  Okay.  Dynamics then.  I noticed that you have subordinates ordering their superiors around.  What's that all about?"  
  
Hogan answered, resuming his earlier position on his bunk.  "I have over 2000 men here in camp, as well as a number of civilians that have worked for me over the last 3 ½ years.  I'm responsible for all of them.  When I began this operation, Stalag 13 was a NCO camp.  We needed to do things that no one was really trained for, so I relied heavily on the men's individual talents and abilities.  Rank didn't matter then and doesn't now.  When we began, we were all volunteers and that was just part of the package.  The best man for any job was always the man in charge, regardless of rank."  
  
"You have an incredible operation here, Rob," Kyle said.  
  
A knock on the door interrupted them.    
  
Hogan immediately answered, "Come."  
  
"Sorry to interrupt, Colonel," Kinch said as he opened the door.  "Baker just received word that the first set of trucks from Wurzburg are ten miles from camp.  The first truck contains all of the German soldiers. There are only 26. The other trucks are carrying the new POWs.  As you ordered, those trucks will remain on the road outside camp until the Germans are secured.  Doc Freiling and his volunteers are ready to assist any who need help, but the word is that most of these men are in good shape."  
  
"Good."  Hogan stood up.  "Let's go make sure everyone is ready. Then we can greet our new guests.  Kyle, I'd like to ask you to stay in the barracks along with everyone else who is not directly involved.  I don't want any unnecessary distractions out there."  
  
"All right.  As I told you before -- you're in charge," Birmingham agreed, thinking to himself that now Hogan could literally order his cooperation.  Birmingham noticed a change in Hogan's demeanor when Kinch's report was over. The man stood and appeared as if nothing was wrong with him.  _It is simply amazing, just like this whole operation of Hogan's.  
  
**Just ten minutes later…  
**_  
The first truck entered the compound.  The German soldiers in the back filed out and formed rank.  It was a simple matter for Hogan's men to disarm and capture them. They simply outnumbered and surrounded them. The guards had not been expecting any hostility.  The new German prisoners were led to their quarters.  Their commanding officer, Major Kalb, was escorted to the cooler.    
  
As soon as the German compound was secured, the guard at the front gate to Stalag 13 waved the other six trucks into the main compound. The new POWs were ordered from the trucks and made to form ranks.  Hogan watched for a few moments and then slowly walked to where 'his' SS stood.  He waited there for his men to bring the Senior POW Officer for these men to him. He wanted to 'free' these men as soon as possible.    
  
He didn't have long to wait as Private Smithers approached with an RAF Major. Smithers, dressed as an SS Corporal, saluted Hogan as he stopped in front of him.  "Colonel Hogan.  May I present Major Paul Boynton?"  
  
"Thank you, Private.  Nice job," Hogan replied returning the salute.  He turned to the RAF Major and noted the look of guarded disbelief on the man's face.  Hogan offered his hand and said, "Welcome to Stalag 13, Major Boynton.  You'll find we're quite relaxed around here."    
  
Boynton returned the handshake warily.    
  
Hogan continued, "If you don't mind -- I'd like to explain the situation here to everyone at once." Then he raised his voice and addressed the entire assembly, "Welcome to Stalag 13.  I'm Colonel Robert Hogan, the Senior Officer here.  I realize that this will be hard for you all to believe, but I would like to tell you a long story, sort of a fairy tale, about a Papa Bear."  
  
The Major's eyes widened in shock, he was unsure of how to respond to the American Colonel.  He felt responsible for the lives of his men.  Everyone was very on edge, as this was the second move in two weeks.  Although he recognized the reference and knew that it was the recognition code for the Allies' most highly regarded agent, he still had reservations.  
  
Hogan saw the look of total disbelief on many faces, so he resumed his explanation, "I can see that you don't believe me, and truthfully at this moment you don't need to.  We have a triage set up to see to everyone's general health, and there are barracks for you to move into.  These trucks will be returning to Wurzburg to pick up the rest of the men in your camp and bring them here."  Hogan went on gesturing to each area as he spoke about them.  "You will notice that this camp is divided into three areas.  The biggest, is this compound and you will all eventually have every access to it.  The next is our former recreation hall; in it there are several German civilian families, who were formerly operating as underground agents in and around Hammelburg.  They also have free access to this compound.  You will accord these families every courtesy.  The last area is where the former German guards are detained.  You will notice that the guards from your camp are also being detained there.  I have control of this Stalag. They are my prisoners.  You will now be escorted to your new barracks and from there, examined in the medical facility. You will all remain in your new barracks until everyone has been seen and been briefed on the situation here at Stalag 13."   
  
Hogan turned to his own men and said, "Dismissed."  
  
Boynton didn't know what to believe.  But what he did know was that the SS that had brought them here were indeed taking orders from this American Colonel. They were already back in the trucks, and returning to the camp his men had just come from.  He guessed he'd know in two to three hours if what the Colonel had said, about his other men being brought here, was true.  In the meantime, he would hold off making any judgments.  The guard nearest him came and asked very politely, in excellent English, for he and his men to follow him to their new barracks.  
  
**Luft Stalag 13, Cooler,   
April 18, 1945, 2100 Hours  
**  
After addressing Major Boynton and the new POWs, Hogan looked at his watch.  There was no sense in trying to rest for only a couple of hours before the trucks returned here from Wurzburg with the additional prisoners.  He was sure that the doctor would disagree. He had managed several hours of rest this afternoon, though he had been unable to sleep. Obviously he still needed the sedatives for that.  What he could do, though, was go speak with General Burkhalter.  So much had happed since he had captured the German General that morning, that he had had no time to speak with him.  
  
Hogan motioned for the guard at the cooler entrance to let him pass. Another guard with the keys to the cells accompanied him inside to Burkhalter's cell door.  Following his former captors' procedures, he had the guard open the solitary cell and relock it behind him.  
  
When Hogan entered the cell, Burkhalter stood from where he had been sitting.  He looked miserable and helpless in the meager cell, but Hogan couldn't feel any pity for him.  Too many times, the roles had been reversed. Hogan only hoped he had never looked so despondent.  
  
"Colonel Hogan, how dare you ignore me for all this time. This cell is unacceptable for a General," Burkhalter informed him angrily and clearly contemptuous of his surroundings.  
  
"Your rank means nothing at this point.  Hitler's all-glorious Third Reich will soon be defunct. You are now a POW. This cell is perfectly adequate," Hogan informed him, adding deliberately. "I should know. I've spent enough time here."  
  
Burkhalter could think of no reply to that statement, but forged on anyway.  "I want to know what's going on here, Hogan. How the hell did you get control of this camp?"  
  
Hogan replied evenly. "What you 'need' to know, General, is that I am now in charge of this Stalag. You will only be told what I want you to be told. You better get used to it.  It still could be a long war. I would imagine that the life of a prisoner is all that you will know for some time to come. Once Stalag 13 is liberated, your fate will then be in someone else's hands. But until that time, as my prisoner, you will remain confined to this cell."  
  
Burkhalter shuddered at Hogan's statement.  He had known what fate awaited him should Berlin fall. He was after all, on the German General Staff, working directly for Hitler.  When the Russians had engaged Berlin, he had fled along with countless other officers.  Fleeing not only from the Allied forces, but also the SS, Hitler's private police.  If the SS had caught up with him after he deserted, they would have shot him.  He had only stopped at Stalag 13 as it was on the way to Switzerland and ultimately escape.  He figured he could get a meal and a comfortable bed, and be on his way again.  Instead a former prisoner had captured him.  
  
"Why isn't Kommandant Klink being detained as well? It appears that he didn't give up the camp to you, without a fight," Burkhalter said. "It's too bad, that he was never able to finish what he started."   
  
Hogan noticed Burkhalter assessing his injuries and realized Burkhalter thought they were from a confrontation between himself and Klink. "Actually, it was Major Hochstetter who wasn't able to finish what he started. He and most of his men, met with a somewhat tragic end." _I can't believe I'm condoning that._  Hogan started to leave, really not wanting to continue this discussion with the German General.  
  
"Colonel Hogan, wait," Burkhalter stated before Hogan could call to the guard to be let out.  Burkhalter had never expected that Hogan would ever be involved in anything as diabolical as this. He had heard of the Gestapo Headquarters' bombing and the execution of Major Hochstetter and his men. He had always thought of Hogan as being a coward and a patsy.  _Perhaps that had all been an act and the real Hogan is standing before me now.  
_  
"Yes?" Hogan answered turning back to the portly General's anxious demand.  
  
"I have to know.  This area has had more sabotage committed here than any other location in all of Germany.  Were you responsible?" Burkhalter asked finally putting all the pieces together.  
  
Hogan straightened and sighed before answering the General. He decided that since the rest of his German prisoners knew the truth, telling Burkhalter wouldn't be that risky. "Yes," Hogan replied.  
  
Burkhalter stared at Hogan for a long moment. Even though he had guessed the truth, he still didn't believe that it was possible.  "And when I sent you to England, many of the functioning underground agents were compromised within a month of your return.  No one accredited that to you.  You were under guard the whole time, and your own government would not have condoned what you were doing there.  You did after all steal the plane."    
  
"Your first mistake was to select me for that mission.  Your second mistake was to send Klink with me.  He led me to the first contact, and London ferreted out the rest.  London supplied me with a captured Messerschmitt engine in a P-51 frame.  They were well aware of my mission, even before I even left Stalag 13," Hogan replied.    
  
**_The cell was silent for many long moments…  
_**  
Hogan finally turned and left without saying a word.   
  
This time Burkhalter didn't stop him.  He stared at the cell door, thinking about all of the set backs and bungled plans that had happened in the last three years.  He wondered how many could be attributed to Hogan.  Even if Hogan was responsible for only half of them, and he had been discovered, the war could have taken a different turn.  They might even have won.  It was scary to think that the course of the war could be attributed to one man.  
  
**Luft Stalag 13, Colonel Hogan's Quarters,   
April 19, 1945, 0500 Hours  
**  
Hogan slowly sat up.  He had stiffened up during the night, but figured a little movement would loosen him up sufficiently.  Besides he was due for more medication after roll call. He moved to his desk and turned on the light, to dress. They had had a busy night with the three truck convoys from Wurzburg.  All but the original Team sent out with Lieutenant Jenkins had returned safely, along with the extra 500 POWs rescued from there.  As an added benefit, all the equipment and supplies from that camp were now stored here.  The added food would be helpful, for a while anyway, as Hogan now had over 500 more mouths to feed.  
  
"What's going on?"  Kyle asked sleepily from the top bunk.  He hadn't slept well, the surroundings being drafty and the mattress lumpy.  
  
"Roll call, Kyle.  A fact of life here at Stalag 13.  5:30 every morning, rain, snow, fog or hail," Hogan replied.    
  
"Why are you still doing roll calls?" Kyle asked sitting up.  
  
"Everything must remain outwardly the same.  The entire countryside for over 100 miles is still controlled by German forces.  We can't take any chances.  So get up.  Roll call," Hogan said putting on his jacket and getting ready to leave.  "You've only got a few minutes.  Our German guards will be in here shortly to make sure you attend."  
  
"You're kidding," Birmingham replied incredulously.  
  
"No.  Not in the least.  My German guards are to act like they are the guards of this camp.  They will come in here and dump you out of bed," Hogan informed him. _I should actually have my men do that.  It would be pretty funny._ Hogan said nothing more, leaving Kyle behind speechless, and entered the main barracks.  
  
Everyone there was starting to stir. Hogan got himself some coffee. He had a busy morning ahead. He would need to explain to Klink about the new prisoners, as well as check in with the doctor. Freiling had been working ceaselessly since last night, with his volunteers, giving medical exams to the new POWs. The last time he had seen the doctor, around 0200, things were going well. The POWs were in fairly decent shape, no medical emergencies at all. Hogan hoped he could get the POWs to believe him, but knew it was going to take some time. And they still had plenty of that, so it didn't matter.  
  
By the time he heard the guard voices yelling 'Raus. 'Raus, General Birmingham was exiting his office. As if on queue the barrack's door flew open and three guards entered with guns at the ready. "Roll call, roll call. 'Raus, 'raus," they all said together. The men of Barracks Two immediately headed outside.   
  
Hogan said amusedly, as he passed the guards, "You guys are getting good at this, just remember whose side you on, Okay?" and he smiled.    
  
The guards were trying to remain in character, but each man gave their commanding officer a grin before they left the barracks.   
  
Hogan watched as each barracks formed rank. The new POWs had been assigned the barracks closest to the NCO quarters. Their barracks were the first ones out and in formation.  Hopefully soon, he could make them believe that they are truly free and they could relax a little.  
  
"So Rob," said Birmingham coming up and standing beside Hogan, figuring it was probably the best place to stand, never having been part of a POW roll call before. "Who's masquerading as your camp Kommandant?"  
  
"What are you talking about?" Hogan asked, not believing that Kyle hadn't seen Klink or Schultz before this.  He then realized that it's only been 27 hours since they had landed and he had kept them cooped up until around noon yesterday. "Sorry, Kyle again it's a matter of keeping things the same. Both the real Kommandant and the Sergeant of the Guard will be here shortly to do the head count. We needed them to stay visible."  
  
As if on cue, Birmingham noticed who must have been the Kommandant and Sergeant of the Guard exit the Kommandant's office, followed out of the building by two other guards. The Sergeant of the Guard approached the center of the compound. Each barrack's guard sounded off in German, and the German Sergeant turned toward the Kommandant.  
  
The Kommandant for his part, only said "Report."   
  
"All prisoners, present and accounted for Herr Kommandant," the Sergeant then reported.   
  
"Dismissed," ordered the Kommandant. "Colonel Hogan, may I see you for a minute."  
  
"Of course, Kommandant," said Hogan.  
  
Birmingham noticed that Hogan turned smartly and on reaching the Kommandant saluted. And that that salute was returned just as smartly from the German Kommandant. "What can I do for you Colonel Klink?" Birmingham heard Hogan ask of the German. _Hogan sounds a little too polite to the Kommandant. I'd want to kill the Nazi bastard after three years in this pigsty. _Birmingham's thoughts were curtailed as he watched Hogan and Klink retire to the Kommandant's office.  
  
**_After entering the Kommandant's office, Colonel Klink began…   
_**  
"Colonel Hogan, how did you manage to get extra guards and prisoners since yesterday? There was barely enough food for the people here already, now there can't be enough at all," Klink confronted. "I'm concerned for my men, as I realize my men and I will have to bare the brunt of the food shortage."  
  
"I understand your concern, but the new POWs came with their own provisions. It may get hairy in the future, but right now there is enough to go around. I will not let you or your men starve to death Kommandant. It will not come to that," said Hogan evenly.  
  
"That does not alleviate my fears, Colonel Hogan. I do trust you personally.  But I worry that, at some point, your only solution to a food shortage may be to rid yourselves of your German prisoners. It could certainly alleviate the problem of us 'starving' to death," Kommandant Klink said with a twinge of challenge in his voice.  
  
"It will not come to that, Kommandant. I am not a mass murderer. I will not let it come to that," Hogan offered exasperated. _How can he believe I would do such a thing?   
_  
"I guess I have no choice then, but to take you at your word, Colonel. Excuse me," Klink said turning away from Hogan and went into his quarters. As he closed the door, Klink realized that Hogan would have never been allowed to get away with closing the door in his face. He waited to see if Hogan would react. When nothing happened Klink continued into his quarters, but was unable to shake the feeling that Hogan would not be able to keep his promise.  
  
Hogan stared angrily at the closed door. By all rights, he should haul Klink's butt back through the door.  But even as he was thinking that, Hogan realized that he would have had the same worry, before the takeover, for his men that Klink has now. _I will not let it come to that._  Hogan chose to ignore the Kommandant's actions and headed back to Barracks Two, determined to keep his promise.  
  
Hogan walked into Barracks Two relieved to see that Doc Freiling was sitting there drinking coffee with his men.  "When can I lift the quarantine for the new men?"  
  
"I'd say by the end of today.  There haven't been too many cases where I've had to intervene.  They're basically healthy, too thin in some cases, but basically okay," Freiling replied in a relieved voice.  When he'd been told that there were 500 new POW coming into camp he had envisioned men who were very sick, with him having no supplies to treat them with.  _Thankfully that has not proven to be the case.  
_  
"Good, Kinch, set up a time when I can debrief them. Probably tomorrow in the afternoon," Hogan ordered. "I should have time then, most of the teams are due in tomorrow during the early morning hours.  
  
"Yes, sir," Kinch replied.    
  
"Doc, I believe its time for another shot," Hogan said with resignation, as he positively hated needles but knew that it was the only thing keeping him going at this point.  
  
"That it is, Colonel," Freiling replied with a smile.  _Finally Hogan is cooperating with me!_  
  
Hogan led the doctor into his quarters, surprised to find Kyle stretched out on the top bunk sound asleep.  "Guess he's not used to early hours," Hogan said with an amused smile.  
  
"You may wish to ask him to leave, Colonel," Freiling said placing his bag on the desk.  "I want to see how things are healing now."  
  
"Kyle," Hogan said shaking Birmingham's shoulder.  "Wake up."  
  
"Um.  What?"  Kyle asked blinking.  
  
"Get out.  The Doc's here," Hogan told Kyle, unwilling to be examined in front of him.  
  
"Oh, okay," Kyle replied sitting up and swinging out of the bunk.  He jumped lightly to the floor and left the room, closing the door behind him.  
  
"Take off your shirt, Colonel," Freiling said as soon as the door was closed.    
  
Hogan only sighed and complied.    
  
"Has your vision improved, Colonel?" Freiling asked beginning his examination with the bruising around the officer's face.  
  
"No," Hogan replied glumly.  "Still can't see anything out of my right eye."  
  
Freiling pressed his fingers against Hogan's right temple.    
  
Hogan winced but managed to stay still for the examination.  "It's not too bad, Doc," said Hogan quickly.  
  
"Well I think, Colonel, that you've made some improvement.  The swelling I discovered earlier has reduced in size.  If the antibiotics are having this effect, this could be a good sign for the future.  You've had 28 hours of antibiotics now, but you need to understand you're not out of the woods yet." Freiling ran his fingers lightly down the right side of Hogan's face.  "It also appears that the swelling around your facial fractures has reduced as well."  
  
"When do you feel, as you say, that I will be out of the woods?" Hogan asked.  
  
"Probably another twelve hours, but a real good indication that things are improving is a return of your vision, even if it was only to blurry vision," Freiling replied moving the examination down to his patient's torso.  He carefully unwrapped the bound ribs, noting that the purple and black bruises hadn't changed much since yesterday.  After he had thoroughly examined Hogan he rewrapped the ribs and told him, "Things here are progressing nicely.  Don't forget to eat.  Kinch told me that you will have nothing to do this afternoon, but would likely be up most of the night.  Therefore, I want you to sleep for most of today.  I'll be back at 10 o'clock for your next dose of antibiotics and a sedative."  
  
"All right, Doctor," Hogan agreed knowing the doctor was right.  "However, I want it understood that within the next two days I'm expecting all of my teams back.  If there are wounded, they will have first priority to any available medications."  
  
"That is understood, Colonel," Freiling replied immediately.  
  
"Good," Hogan approved.  
  
"You should eat.  I'll see you at 10 o'clock."  Freiling gathered his things together and left Hogan's quarters.  
  
Hogan stood and dressed slowly, wincing occasionally at a particularly sensitive position.  Once he was dressed again, he left his quarters, planning to head to the mess hall.  
  
"Rob," Birmingham said as soon as Hogan walked into the larger barracks.  "I'd like to speak with you."  
  
"I'm heading to get something to eat.  Come if you want," Hogan replied, nodding at Kinch to hold down the fort.  The two officers left the barracks together.    
  
While they were walking the short distance to the mess hall, Colonel Klink and his guard came up from behind them.  "Colonel Hogan, may I speak with you for a moment?" Klink asked politely.  
  
Hogan turned and responded just as politely, hoping that this wouldn't be a continuation of the discussion they had just had earlier.  "What can I do for you, Kommandant?"  
  
"I want to apologize for earlier, Colonel," Klink began contritely. "I was out of line. I do realize that you will do the best you can with the resources that you have."  
  
"Thank you, Kommandant," Hogan replied relieved, quickly accepting the apology.  "We'll make it work somehow.  Oh. By the way, I don't believe you've met our new resident General.  Kommandant Klink, this is General Birmingham, an observer from London."  
  
"General Birmingham," Klink said nodding politely, even though he became immediately aware, through the General's demeanor, that Birmingham had no use for him.  
  
Birmingham, after having given the German Colonel an evil stare, said, "Colonel Hogan, I really need to speak with you."  The General turned and walked toward the mess hall like they had not been interrupted, clearly expecting Hogan to follow.  
  
Hogan never moved and only replied annoyed to the General's retreating back, "I'll be with you in a minute, General."  He then asked Klink deliberately, "Is there anything further, Kommandant?"  
  
"Yes, Colonel. Can I have your permission to speak with General Burkhalter?" Klink asked, amazed that Hogan was so disrespectful to his superior.  
  
"I'm sorry I haven't given you that opportunity.  I didn't believe that you would want to speak with him," Hogan replied surprised at the request.  
  
"I have many unanswered questions, questions that I should have asked a long time ago," Klink said decisively, looking Hogan directly in the eyes. _Though I fear greatly Burkhalter's answers.  They could confirm the horrible things that I now suspect to be true.  
_  
"By all means, Kommandant."  Hogan nodded, wishing to be a fly on the wall for that conversation.  He had never seen Klink so resolute. "Corporal Webber, see that Kommandant Klink gets in to see the General when he's ready."    
  
"Yes, sir," Webber replied retreating with his charge after the two Colonels exchanged salutes.   
  
As Klink walked away, he heard a confrontation begin between Hogan and Birmingham. _Hogan is actually dressing down the General for his misconduct.  How can Hogan be getting away with that? He's only a Colonel? But, the General seemed to acquiesce to Hogan's authority. So strange.  
_  
**_As Hogan approached Birmingham…  
_**  
Hogan immediately snarled, "Your behavior was uncalled for and totally uncivilized. As an unofficial member of my staff you will treat Kommandant Klink and his men with respect.  Is that clear, General?"  
  
"Perfectly, sir," Birmingham replied stiffly.  
  
"Good," Hogan replied resuming their interrupted walk toward the mess hall.  "You had a question earlier.  What did you want, General?"  
  
"I had another question about the camp's dynamics, sir.  May I speak freely, sir?" Birmingham asked formally.  
  
"You may ask me any question you wish, Kyle.  And drop the sir," Hogan replied.  
  
Birmingham took a deep breath, knowing that his question was liable to set Hogan off again. "Sir," he began as politely as possible.  "You seem awfully cordial with the former camp Kommandant here.  Your relationship seems rather inconceivable to me.  He would have been the first one put out of his misery, if he had been my jailor for over three years."   
  
Hogan said nothing, but had given the General a look of disgust.  Silently he led the way into the mess hall and to the chow line. Hogan knew that he may never get Kyle to understand, but was going to try.  Hogan began, picking up a plate, "Kyle listen. If it wasn't for the fact that Klink was the camp Kommandant and Schultz the Sergeant of the Guard, we probably never could have created anything here.  Neither man is a dedicated soldier to the Third Reich.  Neither man is a member of the Nazi Party.  Since Klink has been Kommandant here, this camp has always been run very close to what the Geneva Convention outlined.  No Allied prisoner has ever been treated maliciously here."    
  
Hogan paused, while he led the way to two seats on the far right side of the room.  He continued once they were seated.  "While admittedly, not well fed, we were never starved.  Klink did the best he could with the budget he was allotted.  While neither man was ever on our side, they were never really against us either.  It was far less dangerous for both men to straddle the middle-of-the-road.  Their decision to remain as neutral as possible allowed us to function here."  
  
"Really?  That seems incredible to me that there would be two such men, together, in a position that you could take advantage of," Kyle replied.  
  
"I admit that lady luck was on our side," Hogan offered.  "But since both men were an integral part of our success, we worked hard to protect both men's reputations.  Klink never had a successful escape from this camp, because I didn't allow it.  That way his position as our Kommandant was secure.  Schultz on the other hand was almost one of the boys.  He never should have been drafted.  He's as unlikely a soldier as you can imagine.  He was very proficient in looking the other way.  A lot.  He saw nothing, said nothing, and knew nothing, because it was safer.  He protected us and we protected him."  
  
"This camp is one of such contradictions," Kyle said shaking his head in utter amazement.  
  
Hogan grinned.  "It always has been, Kyle."  
  
**Luft Stalag 13, Cooler,   
April 19, 1945, 1300 Hours  
**  
Colonel Klink waited patiently for the cell door to be opened.  When it he entered, it was locked behind him, leaving him alone with General Burkhalter.   
  
Burkhalter who had been curled up on the bunk, huddled under his coat, sat up when his cell door was opened. "Klink!  I demand that you have Hogan release me!" Burkhalter commanded, though his voice betrayed his fears.  
  
"Sorry, General.  I have no authority here. Colonel Hogan is in control of this camp.  If you want out, you must speak to him," Klink replied evenly.  
  
"Then, what are you doing here?" Burkhalter asked angrily.  
  
"For once, I'll ask the questions, General.  Shouldn't you be in Berlin?" Klink asked his face expressionless.  
  
Burkhalter glared at him, but replied, "Berlin is in shambles. Anarchy rules.  No one was safe there anymore."  
  
 "Are you saying there is no government left in Berlin?" Klink asked.  
  
"Government. What government?  Klink, where have you been?!  Hitler was the government.  He disappeared the day the Russians engaged Berlin and hasn't been heard from since.  Most of Hitler's staff has fled," Burkhalter replied amazed at Klink's gullibility.  
  
"Berlin hasn't yet fallen, Herr General," Klink pointed out.   
  
"No.  But it will," Burkhalter replied certain.  
  
"Do you mean that there is no one left to support our countrymen in the aftermath of this war?" Klink asked still amazed that he could be appalled at anything Hitler's staff was capable of doing.  
  
"Are you insane, Klink? Once Berlin falls we would have all been dead men," Burkhalter stated.  
  
"Is there a reason, General, that you would be summarily executed by the Allied Forces?" Klink asked.  
  
"We could have ruled the world Klink.  We are the master race.  We could have had everything," Burkhalter said with arrogance.  
  
"But instead we lost everything," Klink replied greatly saddened by the enormous loss of it all.  "Our way of life.  Our traditions and history.  Everything gone, to support a mad man."  
  
"You've missed the point, Klink.  Ours was the true path, the rest of the world were just too blind to see it.  We would have led them all to glory," Burkhalter replied with the conviction of a true believer.  
  
"No.  We are a bunch of murderers.  Whole families wiped out, nearly a whole race.  Who were we to play God?  The Allied forces have the right to line us up and shoot us all. We were all to blame for Hitler's Final Solution, for the Concentration camps, the Labor camps, the Death camps and the Political Prisoners, for the Gestapo and the SS.  How could we all have been so blind that we just closed our eyes and let all of that become our way of life?" Klink turned away from Burkhalter and shouted for the guard to let him out.  He hoped never to see that man again.    
  
**Mission: Darmstadt Chemical Plant - Team Two  
Heinrichstrasse, Outside Darmstadt,   
April 19, 1945, 1600 Hours  
**  
Soule pulled the truck off the road about a mile from their destination.  O'Malley sent Lieutenant Brunelle and Corporal Girouard off on a brief reconnaissance mission.  They knew a great deal about the factory, its personnel, and operating schedule. What they didn't know much about was the surrounding countryside, as they were almost 120 KM from Stalag 13.  While his two men were gone he asked if anyone else had any questions about the plan.   
  
There were no questions.  
  
Lomax and Gagel were dressed as German officers and were posing as scientists along with the two underground members they had picked up.  The rest of the group was their escorts, ensuring their safe passage throughout Germany while on an inspection tour. Everyone was ready for what they had to do.  
  
"It's all clear.  The factory is just where it is supposed to be.  The security is tight, but we shouldn't have any problems with the orders we're carrying," Brunelle reported when he and Girouard returned to the truck.  
  
"Excellent.  Let's get a move on then.  That plant has to go up in a little under eight hours," O'Malley ordered.  
  
Soule stopped the truck at the checkpoint outside the factory.  They all got their first look at the place.  It was located in a deep valley, with the hills very close.  It was no wonder, an air attack on this place wasn't feasible.  The factory itself was huge, covering well over ten acres of land.  They were lucky explosives were made here.  It wouldn't take a lot to begin a chain reaction.   
  
"Papers please," one of the four guards at the gate asked, approaching the passenger side of the truck.  
  
O'Malley reached into his jacket and pulled out his identification papers and his orders. He handed both to the guard.    
  
"Wait, bitte.," the guard told him, bringing the papers to the guard shack and calling the plant office.  After several anxious moments he returned, "Your papers, Captain Mehler.  I have informed Major Schiffer of your arrival."  
  
"Very good, Corporal," O'Malley replied.  "Drive on."  
  
Soule put the truck in gear and drove into the German plant, stopping the truck in front of the main entrance, so everyone could get out.  Soule and Girouard stayed with the truck, ready at a moment's notice to get them out of the factory.  The rest of the men formed an escort around their scientists and headed for the plant's office.  
  
"I am Captain Mehler.  Heil Hitler," O'Malley told Major Schiffer when they were introduced to the German.  Schiffer was a short man, in his forties. He looked to be fit and proud of his factory.  
  
"Heil Hitler, Captain," Schiffer replied.  "Your orders say that you are conducting an inspection tour?"  
  
"Ja.  Colonel Dressner and Major Eichmann," he said indicating Gagel and Lomax, "Along with their civilian counterparts Herr Stoffler and Kirsch," this time indicating Johann and Pieter, "Are interested in inspecting your facility."  
  
"It is indeed an honor to have Herr Kirsch with us.  Such a distinguished man in our field of research," Schiffer replied bowing to the older man.  
  
"It is I who is honored, Major," Pieter replied his lips quirking with amusement.  The identity he had been provided with was that of a very respected name in Atomic research.  "It is not often that I get to go out and see what others have been doing."  
  
"Ja.  I can see that.  Well we should begin then. This way, gentlemen," Schiffer replied gesturing for the party to precede him from his office.  "I'll give you a tour of the facility."  
  
They followed Schiffer from building to building, accompanying him into a variety of research labs and finally the production area of the plant.  While they toured one member or the other of the escort would momentarily fall behind, planting small incendiaries designed by Carter.  These packages would all go off together, triggered by the main explosion.  The main explosion would come from a briefcase that had been 'accidentally' left in the main production area behind some nearby drums of stored liquid explosive. The bomb in the briefcase was set to explode at midnight.  It was hoped that only a small staff would be employed at that hour and the loss of life would be minimal, while the loss of the plant would be catastrophic to the Third Reich.  
  
"I hope," Schiffer was saying, passing out small glasses of schnapps to his guests, "That your report to Berlin will be a positive one."  
  
"You can depend upon it, Herr Major," Gagel replied.  
  
"Excellent, Colonel Dressner.  I hope your return journey will be pleasant.  Are you sure that you will not take up my offer of hospitality?  It is getting late," Schiffer said.  
  
"Nein.  I don't believe so.  We have quarters provided for us in Darmstadt.  We should really get on the road, Captain Mehler," Gagel replied, glancing at O'Malley.  
  
"Ja.  Ja.  As you say, Major.  It is late.  Thank you for your tour.  You are doing an excellent job here," O'Malley said, saluting the superior German officer.    
  
Soon they were at the truck and driving from the plant.  Soule pulled the truck onto a small overlook to the south of the plant that was several hundred feet above the floor of the valley where the plant was built.  "We should have a good view of it from here, sir," he said to O'Malley.  
  
"Excellent.  Excellent job, men.  Even I believed us at times," O'Malley praised.  "Pieter, you could spout that stuff with the best of them.  Fooled them all completely."  
  
Pieter grinned self-consciously.  "I believe Ian that was more due to the identity you gave me than my own knowledge of the topic."  
  
"No matter.  It worked," O'Malley glanced at his watch.  "We only have about fifteen minutes before it should go up."  
  
The men all waited anxiously, but remained silent, each keeping their thoughts to themselves.  Finally multiple explosions shattered the night and the valley below them became a fiery inferno.    
  
"Let's get out of here," O'Malley ordered trying not to think of the people who had been killed below. Soule put the truck in gear and began driving back the way they had come.  
  
**Luft Stalag 13, Colonel Hogan's Quarters,   
April 19, 1945, 1800 Hours  
**  
Doctor Freiling let himself into Colonel Hogan's quarters, expecting that Hogan would still be asleep. Closing the door behind him, he quickly flicked on the light as he put his bag down on the desk.   
  
Hogan grumbled irritably when the light was turned on.  "What time is it?" he asked blinking excessively in the bright light.  
  
"6 o'clock.  You've been asleep for eight hours," Freiling replied.  "It's time for more medication."  
  
"Swell," Hogan replied still blinking and feeling a little dizzy.  
  
Freiling noticed Hogan's slight disorientation when he pulled the stool closer to administer the shots.  "What's the matter, Colonel?"  
  
"It's really bright in here," Hogan complained, still blinking.  
  
"It's no brighter than normal," Freiling commented.  "Let me take a look at your eye."  
  
Hogan held still while the doctor peered into his right eye. When the doctor blocked his left eye, Hogan was startled to realize that he could see something with his right eye.  Not clear shapes, but definite light and dark shadows.  "I can see light," Hogan said softly.  "It's blurry and I can't make anything out, but I see light."  
  
"That's a very good sign!" Freiling exclaimed very relieved.  "Let me give you another dose of the antibiotics, but I'm going to have to cover that eye now.  It will be too distracting to you.  Your balance and depth perception will be shot."  
  
"I don't want to wear a patch doctor," Hogan protested, not wanting anyone in camp to know the extent of his disability.  
  
"You don't really have a choice, Colonel.  In order for your eyesight to return, it must do so slowly and in its own time.  I don't want you falling and aggravating your other injuries," Doc Freiling stated unwaveringly.  
  
Hogan slumped on his bed in defeat.  "Okay.  I guess you know best."  
  
"I'm glad we're in agreement here.  But remember; this is a sure sign that the hematoma is shrinking.  I believe that we can safely assume that you are no longer in imminent danger of dropping dead on us," Freiling smiled relieved at Hogan's apparent improving condition.   
  
Hogan straightened immediately. "Really?" he asked astonished and relieved. He looked up into the Freiling's face grinning and reached to shake the doctor's hand.  "Thanks, Doc, I don't know what to say." Hogan sighed heavily, as he continued to contemplate the news. He was still a little shell-shocked. He had been waiting for this news, of course, but had prepared himself to never hear it.   
  
"You're not completely recovered, you still have a long road ahead of you.  You must continue to rest and eat all of your rations," Freiling admonished his most stubborn patient.  
  
"Yeah sure," Hogan replied, high-spirited.  "I will."  
  
"And you must wear a patch, probably at least for a week, or until I tell you can take it off," Freiling ordered taking some of the wind out of Hogan's enthusiasm. "I'll make one for you.  In the meantime, you should lie down, and I want you to get some more rest.  No getting up, until I return with that eye patch."  
  
"Yeah sure.  I will," Hogan repeated deflated, lying back down, but nothing could really take away from the doctor's news.  The ever-looming shadow of his imminent death was gone.  He felt like a new man.  
  
"I'll have someone bring you something to eat.  And I'll be back within the hour.  I know you need to be up for 10," Freiling said as he picked up his bag,  "I'm going to tell the men out there that I believe you are out of danger.  They will be concerned for you when I tell them to bring you food, and that I've forbidden your getting up."  
  
Hogan knew the doctor was right.  His men were such worrywarts when it came to his health.  "That's fine.  You're right they would be worried."  
  
Freiling opened the Colonel's door and entered the barracks with a wide grin.  The men in the barracks stopped what they were doing and looked at him in astonishment.  It was the first time they'd seen any reaction from the doctor since that night.  "You will be relieved to know gentlemen, that I believe the Colonel is out of danger."  
  
The men in the barracks reacted to that very welcome news by smiling and slapping each other on the backs.  There were many sighs of relief.  Everyone in the barracks, indeed in the whole camp, had been walking on eggshells over Hogan's condition.    
  
Freiling held up his hand to quiet the men.  "Unfortunately, there was something that Colonel Hogan had asked me to keep from you for the past few days."  
  
The barracks grew deadly quiet.   
  
"What was that?" Kinch demanded his smile of relief fading.  
  
The doctor replied, "Colonel Hogan hasn't been able to see from his right eye. It had been an indication that his condition was worsening.  He had asked that it be kept quiet. The good news is that his vision is slowly returning now.  He will need to wear an eye patch to avoid disorientation while the eye heals.  I believe he will eventually have complete vision restored.  He still has many other injuries to recover from, but is no longer in imminent danger of death."  
  
A collective sigh was released from Hogan's men.   
  
Birmingham had listened to the doctor's news as well and was relieved to hear that Rob would be okay, but he was astonished at how much Hogan's men seemed to care for their commander. _Hogan is a lucky guy, but it looks as if he is going to catch a lot of flack for not telling these guys about his vision.  
_  
"One of you must bring him a tray for dinner.  I have told him not to get up until I return with the eye patch for him to wear.  I'm going to make that now," said the doctor  
  
"I'll bring him something, Doctor," LeBeau replied immediately, leaving for the mess hall.  
  
"Excellent.  I'll be back shortly," Freiling gave the men a nod, and exited the barracks.   
  
After the doctor left the barracks, Kinch entered Hogan's quarters.  "I have a message from Kommandant Klink."   
  
"Really, what is it?" Hogan asked sitting up.  
  
"Klink has talked with Burkhalter.  Burkhalter said that Berlin was in shambles when he left there.  Hitler has disappeared and most of Hitler's staff has fled.  Klink wanted you to be aware of that news, and that we could no longer count on German supplies to be delivered.  The end is very near now," Kinch reported.  
  
"It's about time," Hogan said.  "But now we must be doubly cautious.  The German Forces will be in a state of panic.  The Allied Forces have now seen first hand just what has happened in Germany and its occupied territories.  Anything can happen now.  We may not even be able to rely on our own forces.  It may be up to us to ensure the safety of everyone in this camp."  
  
**Mission: Schweinfurt Airfield - Team One  
North Road, Outside Schweinfurt,   
April 19, 1945, 2030 Hours  
**  
Geoff crouched down behind the thick brush lining the North road.  He could see the position of his granddaughter who was to alert them when Goering's vehicle drove into sight.  Siegfried was beside him and Gettings was across the road.  Allan's job was to shoot the driver and stop the car.  Then they were to rush in, capture Goering, secure him, and hide him back at the farm.  The plan the called for Siegfried to take his truck and report the incident to the airfield so that Foster and his men could legitimately leave to investigate, as the explosive charges would detonate at midnight, and they all had to be out of the area by then.    
  
Geoff and the rest of his team had agreed to leave with Foster who had offered them sanctuary with Papa Bear.  None of them wanted to be left behind after abducting Goering. Their plan was simple and therefore had the best chance of success.    
  
**_They had all been in position since noon, as they had no idea when Goering would arrive…  
_**  
Siegfried finally nudged him when he saw the signal, now a flashlight, from Girta.  Goeff hastily signaled to Allan to be ready.  Suddenly the hooded headlights of a car coming down the road pierced the darkness. As it drew even with their position a shot rang out and the car swerved off the road into the ditch running along side.  Geoff and Siegfried ran to the passenger side door and while Siegfried wrenched it open, Geoff grabbed the man sitting there and threw him to the ground.  While Allan ensured that the driver was dead, Geoff and Siegfried searched the man they had captured. Goering was dazed from the car crash and was easily handled.  He was then handcuffed and gagged so Gettings, Geoff and Girta could take him back to the farm.  
  
Gettings came over to the older men.  He shined his light directly into the face of their captive, recognizing him from pictures he had seen.  They had the right man.  "Herr Goering, I presume," he said pulling the German to his feet, shoving him toward the truck from Stalag 13.    
  
Goering mumbled something around his gag, his eyes outraged.  He lashed out with one of his feet.  Gettings danced aside, almost pleased that the man was fighting his capture.  "So you wish to do this the hard way," he said shoving his prisoner hard against the truck.  There was a dull thud as Goering's head impacted the side of the truck and he slumped to the ground.  "There.  That's better," Gettings said gesturing for Geoff to help him lift Georing into the back of the truck.  
  
Together they nailed him into a box that had been prepared with air holes for him earlier that morning.  They were going to take no chances with this prisoner.  
  
"You better get a move on," Gettings told Pfeiffer. "We'll meet you at the farm."  
  
"I'll give you some time to get into the woods," Siegfried replied, looking at his watch.  "I'll get to the airfield in 10 minutes."  
  
Gettings looked at his watch.  "Good.  We'll be well into the woods by then." Gettings waited for Girta and her grandfather to get into the truck, and then he drove off towards the Schlossburg farm.  
  
**Mission: Hammelburg Bridge - Team Six  
Luft Stalag 13, Compound,   
April 19, 1945, 2200 Hours  
**  
By this time, everyone in camp knew that Colonel Hogan's condition had improved significantly. Hogan had toured the camp this evening after being released from his quarters.  He was embarrassed about having to wear the patch. But, he was grateful that his men had learned not to 'see' his injuries, whenever they talked to him. He had also gotten quite the earful from Kinch, Newkirk, LeBeau and Carter. They were angry that he had kept his eye injury from them. He sheepishly apologized, but was truthfully glad he hadn't told them.  
  
Hogan looked at his watch, realizing it was time to send the last team out. Sergeant Carter would now be leading this team, even though his original plan did not include sending Carter. He had wanted to keep Kinch, Newkirk, Carter and LeBeau in camp.  They were his best men and he needed them to help coordinate everything, but Carter had been so upset not to see his explosives go off as these were the last bombs he would probably ever make, that Hogan finally relented and said that he could blow the Hammelburg bridge. It was the closest mission and Carter wouldn't be out of camp for long.   
  
Hogan approached the truck by the front gates just as Sergeant Carter was doing a final briefing of his team.  His team came quickly to attention and saluted Hogan as he approached. "You ready Sergeant?" asked Hogan.   
  
Carter couldn't contain his enthusiasm. "Yes, sir, we are all set.  We have enough stuff to blow all of Hammelburg!"  
  
"Remember, we only want to take out the bridge. Right Carter?" admonished Hogan.  
  
"Right! Of course, sir," Carter said deflated.  
  
"Good luck, gentleman," Hogan said again saluting.   
  
The men returned the salute, hopped into the truck, and were gone.    
  
Hogan watched the front gate for a long time after it closed behind his last team.  He now had over forty men scattered across the countryside doing his bidding. And in less than two hours from now, all his plans would come together. He shuddered to think of the lives that would be lost this night. -- _And I had wanted Klink to believe I wasn't a mass murderer. -- Oh God, what have I done? -- This war needs to be over_.    
  
Hogan felt that his only salvation would be when his men returned safely.   
  
He walked back toward Barracks Two and sat heavily on the bench outside the door, needing just to stay outside and wait. He soon found himself being joined by LeBeau, Newkirk and Kinch. LeBeau had brought him some coffee. As Hogan sat among his staff, he couldn't help but noticed that many others in the camp had made their way into the compound all, but they were all keeping their distance from him.  
  
**_So there they all stayed, sitting or standing motionless, and quietly waiting…  
_**  
From inside Barracks Two, General Birmingham had noticed that the barracks was strangely empty. He headed towards the door and opened it to a disturbing sight, seeing most of the men and civilians in the camp gathered outside, and spread out in small groups around the compound, while still others sat alone.  He saw that Hogan was sitting against the barracks, seated on the bench outside.  No one was talking.    
  
Then, as if his opening the barracks door had caused it, explosions from the Hammelburg Bridge area were heard. He watched as Hogan closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the barracks wall. The man should have been ecstatic that his plans were successful, instead he seemed miserable. Hogan stayed motionless for a long moment.   
  
_Why wasn't anybody celebrating?_  Kyle wondered, but chose not to interfere.  
  
**_After what seemed like an eternity…  
_**  
Everyone quietly returned to their respective barracks and Kyle couldn't contain his enthusiasm, "Great Job!  I love it when a plan comes together," Kyle congratulated Hogan, taking hold of his shoulder, as he went by.  
  
Hogan glared at Kyle, infuriated.  Grabbing the General's shirt under his chin, he shoved the General out of his way and headed towards his office, slamming the door behind him.  
  
"What the Hell is the matter with you, Hogan?!" Birmingham shouted. Recovering his balance, he went to follow, only to be stopped by Kinch.  
  
"Don't," Kinch said softly.  "Leave him alone.  He's always like this.  It's his way of mourning."  
  
"But he doesn't even know the status of his men yet!" Birmingham protested.  
  
"It's not just the lives of our people, General," Newkirk said.  "There were other lives at stake 'ere."  
  
"Oui," LeBeau agreed.  "The fatality estimate was to be upwards of 500. And not all of them would be German military.  We'll never really know how many were killed tonight."  
  
"So.  Just leave him alone, sir," Kinch said joining back into the conversation.  
  
Birmingham acquiesced, now sure, that he'd ever understand this Robert Hogan.  _Fatalities are a fact of warfare.  Hogan should have long since realized that the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few or the one_.    
  
**Mission: Schweinfurt Airfield - Team One  
Schlossburg Farm, Outside Schweinfurt,   
April 19, 1945, 2330 Hours  
**  
"Do you have everything that you need to take with you?"  Foster asked the three civilians who would now be accompanying them back to camp.  
  
"Ja.  The food is all packed like you asked, and we each have a bag of things to take," Geoff replied looking around at the house he was leaving.  He had grown up here and hoped that everything would survive until he could return.  "Where are we going?"  
  
Foster shook his head.  "I am sorry, but I cannot tell you that.  Don't worry, you can trust Papa Bear. You will be as safe as he can make you.  We should get into the truck now.  The explosion is due any moment.  We have to get to the overlook so that we can see it go up."  
  
Geoff nodded and carefully locked his door, then he climbed into the back where Siegfried and Girta waited.  Riggs drove to the top of the hillside where they could barely make out the airfield.  Foster counted down the seconds on his watch and smiled in satisfaction when the first explosion rocked the night.  The men all congratulated themselves excitedly.  
  
"Mission accomplished. Good job, everyone," Foster said.  "Home, James," he told Riggs with a grin.  
  
"Yes, sir!" Riggs replied, driving back into the woods and onto the narrow track that had led them here.  
  
**Mission: Hammelburg Bridge - Team Six  
Luft Stalag 13, Compound,  
April 20, 1945, 0130 Hours  
**  
Carter brought himself up to rigid attention as Colonel Hogan came to where they'd stopped the truck.  The men who had accompanied him did the same.  
  
"Mission accomplished, sir," Carter reported, his eyes sparkling and he added with his boyish enthusiasm, "It was completely demolished.  The best job yet, boy, um, sir."  
  
"Good job, guys," Hogan replied.   
  
Carter nodded accepting the Colonel's praise, though for him that was the best part of this job.  He loved to blow things up.  He quickly pitched in with the rest of the guys to unload the truck while Hogan and Kinch stood by.  
  
"I hope Kinch that was the last bomb we will ever have to place," Hogan said wearily.  "God I'm tired."  
  
Kinch nodded knowing that Hogan wasn't just referring to physical tiredness.  He imagined that the Colonel was feeling the mental stress of un-relenting tension and duty. And then to have to be in charge of this final huge effort while trying to deal with tremendous amounts of pain and the stress of his injuries.  Kinch knew that the Colonel was more than due for some well-earned R&R.  But getting any was unlikely, because even after the men returned from the various missions, they were not done here yet.  They still needed to sit here and wait for a liberating force to arrive.  _And there is also the possibility of still more missions coming our way.  
_  
**Mission: Wurzburg Munitions Factory - Team Three  
Luft Stalag 13, Colonel Hogan's Quarters,  
April 20, 1945, 0215 Hours  
**  
"Once all the POWs were gone from the new camp the men and I simply set the charges near the fence perimeter.  At 2400 we lobbed in some grenades.  They set off the charges and the whole thing went up," Lieutenant Jenkins reported standing in Hogan's office, while Hogan sat at his desk.  Jenkins couldn't help but notice that the Colonel now had an eye patch covering his right eye.  He was concerned, but everyone else tried to convince him that it was an indication that their CO was recovering.  
  
"Very good.  You encountered no other problems?" Hogan asked.  
  
"No, sir," Jenkins agreed.  
  
"Excellent.  Good job, Lieutenant.  The men you rescued are apparently in good shape, and are settling in here," Hogan told him.  "Go get some shut eye, you've earned it."  
  
"Thank you, sir.  You sent me out with some good men," Jenkins replied giving his commander a sharp salute.  
  
"We have a great mix of men here, there is no doubt about that, Lieutenant," Hogan agreed, watching the young man leave his quarters.  _Two teams have reported back, only four more to go.  So far there haven't been any problems reported.  No casualties at all.  They've been very lucky.  Dare I hope that that luck will continue?  
_  
**Mission: Lindach Train Depot - Team Five  
Luft Stalag 13, Compound,  
April 20, 1945, 0325 Hours  
**  
"Just a little longer leibchen," Captain David Kellogg whispered to the small German girl he held on his lap as the truck pulled into Stalag 13.  One of the tower headlights remained trained on the truck providing them with light.  When the truck stopped, Kellogg got out holding the child.  "All right, everyone can come out now."  
  
The canvas cover was thrown aside and Private Walton jumped down and then reached back up to help a child that Corporal Patterson had lifted over the side.  The rest of Kellogg's team jumped out on their own, helping the children already out of the truck to stand and keeping them together.  The last man out, Sergeant Russell helped the two women from the truck.  Sister Mary Nelson and Frau Eichmann.  Finally after the truck was emptied, Kellogg handed over the child he held to one of the other men as Private Doyle from Sergeant Marlow's crew came over.  
  
"What's going on?" Doyle asked glancing aside at the rather large group children, clearly ranging in ages from two to about twelve.  
  
"Orphans.  Where's the Colonel?" Kellogg asked.  
  
"In his quarters.  You're to go over and wake him.  Team Three came in about an hour ago," Doyle replied.  "Do you have any wounded?"  
  
"No.  Just a lot of kids," Kellogg replied. "I'll go get the Colonel.  Sergeant, keep everyone here.  We'll be right back."  
  
"Right, sir," Russell replied, smiling down in reassurance to the little six-year-old boy who had attached himself to his leg.  
  
Kellogg entered Barracks Two and stealthily made his way to Hogan's quarters.  As he entered the room he turned on the light, and started to close the door, but Kinch came into the room behind him.  
  
"How did you make out, Captain?" Kinch asked moving to wake the Colonel himself.  Hogan hadn't been sleeping, merely lying awake in his bunk.  They were expecting the first four teams in tonight and the first two had already made it back.   
  
"We didn't have any problems, with the mission that is," Kellogg replied watching as Hogan sat up.  He blanched when he noticed the eye patch.  Hogan's health hadn't improved much since his team had been gone.  
  
"What did you have problems with?" Hogan asked rising to sit on the stool at his desk.  He saw Kyle roll over and lean on an elbow to listen to the Captain's report.  
  
"We arrived in Lindach at the contact's house, a Frau Freta Eichmann.  She was expecting us and hid us till it was time to leave.  But she said that a friend of hers, who she had aided from time to time, had a group of orphans to move and no place to send them.  Frau Eichmann knew she was to come back with us, and asked us to take the other group as well.  I met with Sister Mary Nelson, and she was hiding 24 children, many of them Jews.  We brought them back with us Colonel.  I couldn't leave them there.  So as soon as we were done at the depot, we picked up the Sister and her children and came back.  The depot, its facilities and 300 yards of track are gone, sir."  
  
Hogan sighed. _Still more mouths to feed._  "Good work, Captain. I completely understand. I would have done the same thing myself.  Kinch get Lieutenant Taylor to see to the children."    
  
"Yes, sir," Kinch replied.    
  
**Mission: Lohr Bridges - Team Four  
Luft Stalag 13, Compound,   
April 20, 1945, 0545 Hours  
**  
Sergeant Jean Ouellette sighed with relief when the truck containing his fifteen-man team pulled into Stalag 13 and the gates closed behind them.  Two of his groups of men had had trouble, though all of the targets had gone up as scheduled.  
  
Colonel Hogan met the truck when it stopped.  Ouellette along with many of the men in the truck were surprised by his appearance, as he now wore an eye patch, and moved slowly. Ouellette was one of the many Frenchmen in the camp and like most of the men here he greatly admired the American Colonel.  He was not a flyer, but rather a former member of the fast moving French resistance troops.  He was an expert in small unit tactics, and Hogan had utilized his knowledge and skill on more than one occasion.    
  
"Sergeant Ouellette reporting, sir," Jean said leaping from the truck to stand at attention and saluted his superior.    
  
"At ease, Sergeant," Hogan replied returning the others salute.  "Report."  
  
"Yes, sir.  I've got wounded in the back though," Ouellette said.  
  
"Your report can wait then," Hogan said turning aside to yell, "Kinch!"  
  
"Here, sir," Kinch replied running up to the truck.  
  
"We've wounded here," Hogan said, as he watched in satisfaction as Kinch and the rest of the men nearest the truck leaped to bring the wounded to the German NCO barracks, which was still set up as a triage unit.    
  
Hogan and Ouellette trailed along behind the procession.  Once Hogan had assured himself that there were no serious injuries he motioned Ouellette to return to the barracks with him for his report. _Damn. Three wounded. But I guess it's lucky that this was the first team reporting in with wounded.  There are only two more teams in the field and they are due back tomorrow. God, I hope they return safely.    
_  
"What happened, Sergeant?" Hogan demanded after he had seated himself at his desk and the door was closed.  Kinch was seated on Hogan's bunk, and Ouellette was standing.  
  
"We split into three groups as planned to blow the north bridge, the railroad trestle, and the dam.  Corporal Utley had the group taking out the trestle bridge.  They ran into a patrol after planting the charges and Matteson took a bad fall, breaking his leg.  But they got away from the patrol and back to the truck okay.  Corporal Haith was almost unable to take out the North Bridge, as there was a steady stream of refugees crossing, forcing them to wait almost past the appointed time before they could safely approach the bridge.  An armed escort accompanied the refugees.  Haith thought they were being moved from the nearby labor camp, but he didn't have enough men to interfere.  He said the folk looked in a bad way.  My team had the dam, and we had no difficulties approaching or setting the charges, but we also ran into a patrol.  Wood and Bowen both took bullets, flesh wounds as you saw.  The patrol was spraying the woods, not firing directly at us.  We managed to elude them and get away.  All three targets were destroyed successfully though," Ouellette reported.  
  
"Good work, Sergeant," Hogan said.  "Glad that you kept your heads.  Go and get some rest."  
  
"Yes, sir.  I'll check on the men and then turn in," Ouellette replied.  
  
**Luft Stalag 13, Kommandant's Quarters,   
April 20, 1945, 0600 Hours  
**  
Earlier at roll call, Hogan had indicated to Kommandant Klink that he wanted to talk to him, but asked him to return to his quarters and told him that he would be there shortly. Klink had silently nodded his agreement and returned to his quarters with Schultz.   
  
Hogan had then waited on Team Four's return, before he went to see Kommandant Klink. There had been some wounded returning with team four, but nothing that was life threatening. _Thank God._  At this point, there were only two teams left to return. In addition, Hogan now had to deal with an extra 26 mouths to feed, adding to the 500+ POWs and guards that had come yesterday. _I hope I can hold this together._   
  
Hogan entered Klink's quarters and found Klink staring out into the compound, through the window. Schultz was sitting at the table. Both appeared lost in thought. They turned when they hear the door open.    
  
"You had wanted something of me, Colonel?" Klink asked trying to avoid direct eye contact with Hogan, assuming that the eye patch he wore was not a good sign.  
  
"Yes," Hogan said. "First I wanted to tell you that Doc Freiling has told me that my condition has improved.  I am no longer dying.  This eye patch is to help restore my vision slowly. I hadn't told anyone of the loss of site in my right eye. It's supposed to help me avoid disorientation as the eye heals."    
  
"That is welcome news, Colonel.  I'm relieved for you," Klink said as he turned again to look out the window. "May I ask you something, Colonel?"  
  
"Of course," said Hogan not able to read the Kommandant expression.   
  
Klink turned to face Hogan.  "I heard the explosions at midnight last night and I noticed the return of four additional trucks, to the six already in camp. Were your men able to complete their missions successfully?" he asked morosely, realizing again that Hogan was more of a soldier than he would ever be.  
  
Hogan brought all his military training to bear to answer Klink's question. Other than that he might just fall apart. "Four of the six teams sent out, have returned. They each completed their missions, with only minor injuries incurred." _And upwards of 500 others dead_.  "Two other teams are due in early tomorrow morning," Hogan offered as the sorrow began to envelope him again. _Hold it together._  "If all has gone as planned, we will have put a monkey wrench into the plans of any one running scared into Switzerland. We will have knocked out the most readily available modes of transportation in southern Germany, as well as removing obstacles that would stand in the way of Allied troop movements."   
  
"You appear to have had this 'end game' well organized, Colonel Hogan. As an officer I commend you on your abilities," Klink offered keeping eye contact, and trying to match Hogan's military bearing, but couldn't. He looked away from Hogan. Staring at the floor he said, "I never would have been able to do the same had our situations been reversed."   
  
Hogan felt his military bearing just melt away. "Kommandant Klink, I only did what I had to do. It was necessary to obliterate Hitler's Third Reich. I know you realize, now, that he was a madman. I would do the same again." Hogan paused and took his turn to stare at the floor. "But, I now have to live with the guilt of destroying the lives of hundreds." _Thousands?_  "Some innocent, some not.  Up until this morning, I had been glad that the guilt would last no more than a few days. Now I realize the guilt could be with me for years to come." _Mass murderer._  
  
Klink realized how hard that admission was for Hogan. He responded, "Colonel Hogan, I have been hiding behind my fears for so long. I didn't want to believe that my country could be responsible for the atrocities I now know to be true. I now have to live with the guilt that hundreds of thousands died." _Millions?_ "Because I did nothing to stop Hitler's madness from consuming my fellow countrymen." _Coward_.  
  
Things became deathly quiet. Both men were at their most vulnerable. A strange voice of reason interrupted. "Guilt," Schultz said accusingly. "We are all guilty of 'too much' or 'not enough'. It's time we move on and create a future for the innocents among us." Schultz moved to the window and pointed into the compound. "The children need our help to rebuild their heritage!"  
  
Hogan and Klink stared thunderstruck at Schultz, not knowing how to respond. Both men knew Schultz was right, but neither knew how to get past their guilt. Hogan turned from Schultz and left the Kommandant's quarters.  Klink turned from Schultz and entered his bedroom.   
  
Schultz had watched both men leave. _This war needs to be over._  
  
**Luft Stalag 13, Colonel Hogan's Quarters,   
April 20, 1945, 1000 Hours  
**  
"Can you give me a medical update on everyone who came in last night, Doc?" Hogan asked while re-buttoning his shirt cuff after yet another shot in the long series.  _I am going to positively hate needles after this was over with!  
_  
"Your two men who received flesh wounds are fine.  I've cleaned the wounds and bandaged them.  They'll be sore for about a week, but that will be about it. I have set Private Matteson's right leg, it was a clean break and after another three days he can get up and get about on crutches.  Of the children who arrived, all were in fairly good shape.  They're scared, but no one is injured.  The two women who had accompanied them here are both fine, and are keeping the children together.  I think they'll be joining the crowd of youngsters playing in the yard soon," Freiling reported with satisfaction.  So far he didn't have a more seriously wounded patient other than Colonel Hogan, which was a good thing as the Colonel took a lot of effort on everyone's part to keep under control.  
  
"Excellent.  I'm glad that everyone is doing okay.  I'm going to make a tour of the camp and speak with the team members who are back.  After the noon roll call I'll debrief the men who came from Camp 19. I will meet you back here at 1400 for a sedative. I need to be awake tonight."  
  
"Yes, Colonel.  Kinch and I already determined that," Freiling informed him with a smile.  
  
"You two are really in cahoots, aren't you?" Hogan asked, putting on his jacket.  
  
"It takes two of us to keep up with you, Colonel!"  Freiling said with a wave and a grin, leaving the Colonel's quarters.  
  
**_Hogan wandered around the camp for the next two hours until it was time for noon roll call…  
_**  
Things seemed to be going smoothly in camp.  Hogan had spoken to everyone he passed in the compound, congratulated the various members of the Teams who had returned, visited the men in the former NCO quarters who were recuperating from their wounds, visited with the families, and finally had taken some time to watch the kids play.    
  
Hogan had even noticed that Major Killian had taken to the children.  And that he had been teaching them volleyball.  Actually, he had been attracting quite a crowd.  _Maybe we could set up some kind of tournament for after all the missions return. We'll have a lot of time on our hands then, it could be good for morale. I'll have to talk to the Major.  
_  
After the noon roll call he had debriefed the men from Camp 19.  He could tell that the majority of the new men were skeptical.  But he assumed that they would come around with time, which they still had plenty of.  With a shrug, as he'd done all that he could, he watched the new men disperse across the compound, returned to his quarters, and waited for Doc Freiling.  He had more important things to worry about now, as he still had two teams that were due back this evening.  
  
**_Meanwhile elsewhere in camp…  
_**  
Major Boynton walked the new compound with Captain Simon Weller who had been his second in command at Camp 19.  They had only been there a week before they were moved here.  Major Boynton had been in two camps prior to Camp 19 in which discipline was fierce.  Months in solitary had not been an uncommon punishment.  During his time as a prisoner, now approaching a year and a half he'd seen three prisoners sentenced to death, many others shot while trying to escape. Boynton and his men had been trucked to Camp 19. Captain Weller however had told him another story.  Weller had come from the second camp that had contributed men to Camp 19.  During their forced march to the new camp, Kalb, the ranking officer and the soon to be new Kommandant of Camp 19, had routinely shot men who were lagging behind at the end of each day.  It had taken them five fear filled days to complete the march to the new camp.  32 men had not completed the journey.    
  
The Senior Officer here at Stalag 13, who looked like he'd had a thorough going over by his captors recently, was trying to convince them that though still in a prison camp they were in actuality free men.  From where he sat, Boynton found it a hard pill to swallow.  _How can I believe him?_  Colonel Hogan had just finished conducting a briefing for them.  He had told them a lot of things that were still unbelievable and Boynton couldn't bring himself to trust the man yet.  He'd been through too much as a POW to trust easily now.  But surprisingly enough, they were now free to leave their quarters without an escort, enabling them to see the new camp.  
  
Boynton wandered the compound with Captain Weller.  They walked toward the fence separating this compound from where the German prisoners were kept.  It was true that the former guards from Camp 19 were detained in there.  He could easily recognize the two he'd had the most difficulties with.  
  
"This is just so unbelievable," Captain Weller said indicating the former guards.  "Do you think Hogan is on the level?"  
  
"I don't know," Boynton replied.  "Everything he's said is apparently true.  But I just don't know."  
  
They stood there for a moment longer and then continued to walk, passing a rather large group of men going the other direction.  One of those men, lagged behind, and stared intently at the two newcomers.  "Damn," he said.  "It that you, Simon!"  
  
Simon did a double take as the Corporal who had addressed him looked very familiar. "Tom?"  
  
"In the flesh, buddy.  Damn, it's good to see you.  You must of come in with the Stalag 19 boys," the Corporal replied.    
  
_Tom Sullivan.  We were neighbors growing up.  We'd done everything together until I had entered West Point and Tom had opted to go to art school._ "Yeah I did," Weller said glancing aside at his companion.  "Tom and I grew up together." Turning his gaze back to Tom he asked, "You been here long?"   
  
Tom laughed.  "You're transparent.  Yeah I've been here a long time.  Almost four years.  I was here before Colonel Hogan arrived.  The place is sure different than then.  The Colonel is a down right magician.  I ain't never seen anything like him.  He comes in here, and within 2 weeks we had our first tunnel under the wire.  But he wouldn't let us escape.  We were here to help others."  
  
"I can't believe it," Simon replied.  "It just doesn't seem possible."  
  
"Believe it.  I've been a forger for him.  I've never been outside the wire.  My talents lay elsewhere.  In fact, I'm going below now to put in some time.  We're doing identity papers for some orphans that one of the teams brought back.  It will make it easier for after the war, if they have some sort of identity papers that doesn't classify them as being Jewish," Tom replied.  "You can come down if you want.  The Colonel has given you guys complete access.  I can give you a tour."  
  
"What's there to see, Corporal?"  Boynton asked.  "It looks like every other prison I've been in since my capture."  
  
"Sure.  Up here it does," Sullivan replied with a grin.  "But underneath we've got over six miles of tunnels, workrooms, and storerooms.  Hell there's even a sauna down there."  
  
"Lead the way," Boynton replied his eyes wide with surprise.  
  
**_Two hours later…  
_**  
Boynton and Weller returned to the compound leaving the tunnels through Barracks Sixteen.  The tunnel entrance had been concealed under the wash sink.  "Unbelievable," Boynton muttered.  
  
"Amen to that," Weller replied.  "But I've got to say I believe the Colonel now.  What an amazing organization!  To think all this time, right under the German's feet in the middle of Germany.  It's no wonder we've heard so much about Papa Bear!"  
  
**Mission: Schweinfurt Airfield - Team One  
Luft Stalag 13, Compound,  
April 21, 1945, 0300 Hours  
**  
Private Riggs pulled through the gates of Stalag 13 with a sigh of relief.  They had been away from 'home' for four days.  He stopped the truck outside the motor pool.  "Good job, Fred," Sergeant Foster told him.  
  
"Yes, sir," Fred replied with a grin.  They had gotten away with a very dangerous and complicated assignment.    
  
"That goes for the rest of you as well," Foster said to the rest of his team as they climbed from the back of the truck.  He held a hand out to help Girta jump down.   
  
"We are in a prison camp!" Pfeiffer said looking around him in horrified amazement.  
  
"Yes.  Stalag 13," Foster replied.  "Papa Bear is this camp's ranking POW officer.  Colonel Robert Hogan.  Just before we were sent out Colonel Hogan took over this camp to accomplish all the missions he had planned."  
  
"But a prison camp!" Geoff said. "That was why you wouldn't tell us where you were bringing us."  
  
"That and in case we were captured, the less you knew the better," Foster replied with a smile.  
  
The gates of the motor pool swung open, and one of Sergeant Marlow's men from Barracks Three came out.  "Welcome back, Sarg," Private Tom Doyle said.  "Everything okay?"  
  
"Yes.  No problems. We do have a few unexpected guests, though. Does the Colonel want me to wake him?" Foster asked.  
  
"Actually, Sarg I wouldn't wake him. Talk with Kinch first.  We had a close call with the Colonel the last few days.  London dropped some medical supplies for him, and the Doc is keeping an eye on him.  It was touch and go there for a while, but the Doc said he's beaten it," Doyle told them.    
  
"He is okay though," Foster demanded, as the news that the Colonel was still ill was very unwelcome.  
  
"Yeah," Doyle agreed.  "But we are all still worried for him."  
  
Foster swallowed hard at the news, not able to imagine this place without Hogan.  "All right then, I'll wake Kinch.  Allan, give our VIP a nice cell with a view."  
  
"Sure thing, Paul," Gettings replied, gesturing for King and Sheoytz to get Goering out of the box in the back of the truck.  
  
"Doyle is there anyone who can show our three civilian guests to some quarters?"  Foster asked.  
  
"I'll get someone from Barracks Fifteen to take care of that, Sarg," Doyle replied, turning to the three civilians.  "We've space for you, never fear.  We'll get you settled shortly, so you can get some sleep."  
  
Foster nodded to the rest of his team.  "The rest of you go on back to your bunks.  I'll fill Kinch in."  
  
Foster headed across the compound, his skin crawling every time a searchlight brushed him.  For almost two years he had trained himself to duck away from the lights, it was hard to continue to walk under their search patterns.  
  
He entered Barracks Two and moved to the bunk Kinch used.  He woke Hogan's second in command gingerly.  "Kinch.  Kinch," he said shaking the man awake.    
  
"Huh.  Ok.  I'm up," Kinch replied blinking in the low light of the barracks.  "What's the matter?"  
  
"It's Foster.  We made it back from Schweinfurt.  We brought a very unexpected guest back with us," Foster said.  
  
"Who would that be, Paul?" asked Kinch rolling out of bed.  
  
Foster glanced around the sleeping barracks, and then he dropped his voice and whispered a name in Kinch's ear.  
  
"You don't give me any easy ones do you?" Kinch complained as he led the way into Hogan's quarters.  "How the Hell did you do that?"  
  
"Let me tell the story once," Paul asked, following Kinch into Hogan's quarters.  Kinch turned on the light, and a man Foster had never seen before sat up.  He'd been sleeping on the top bunk.  
  
"What's wrong?" the man asked.  
  
"Another of the teams coming in, General.  I'm waking the Colonel," Kinch replied, seating himself on the bunk next to Hogan.  "Colonel Hogan.  Wake up, sir," Kinch called out, placing his hand on the officer upper arm.  
  
As Foster watched Kinch wake the Colonel, he couldn't help but wonder about the other officer.  _A General?  Boy, have a lot of things happened here since we'd been gone!    
_  
Hogan stirred on the bed, mumbling a little bit.  Kinch redoubled his efforts and shortly Hogan was blinking up at him. "What's wrong, Kinch?" he asked rolling onto an elbow and wincing as his still healing ribs protested.    
  
"Sergeant Foster is back, sir.  He has got a report for you," Kinch replied moving back so that Hogan could see Foster.  
  
"Go ahead, Sergeant," Hogan said sitting all the way up in bed so that he was leaning against the wall.  
  
"The mission went fine, Colonel.  The airbase is no longer there.  Almost totally destroyed in the blasts.  But before we managed to do the job, the base commander got word that a VIP was coming from Berlin to utilize the base.  We couldn't let him get to the base, as he would've easily blown our cover.  So we captured him before he got to the base and brought him back here.  I had the men put him in a cell in the cooler," Foster began noticing that the Colonel's face hadn't seemed to have healed any in the time they had been away.  And there was a new addition, a patch over his right eye. "You've got Goering sitting in there now, sir."  
  
"Goering. You brought back Reischsmarschall Hermann Goering," Hogan repeated his voice breaking on the last word he spoke.  He was absolutely amazed.  
  
"Yes, sir," Foster agreed.  "Like I said, he would've blown our cover.  We had to.  Then once we had him, well we didn't know what to do with him.  So.  Well.  We brought him back as sort of a gift for you, sir.  We also brought back Canary.  Once they helped us capture Goering we couldn't leave them where they were."  
  
Hogan shook his head in rueful amazement.  "I seem to be collecting Generals."  He stood slowly.  "It's a good thing you brought in Canary.  They'll be nothing for them to do there now, and they'll be safer here.  How many folk went by the code name?"  
  
"Just three, sir.  A grandfather and his granddaughter. Geoff and Girta Schlossburg, and the man who delivered the milk from their farm, Siegfried Pfeiffer.  We brought back all the food we could lay our hands on.  We even managed to empty some of the provisions from the airbase.  We knew they wouldn't be needing it after the 19th," Foster replied.    
  
"Excellent work.  All right.  Let me get dressed and I'll go over and meet our new guest," Hogan said standing.  
  
"Actually, sir," Foster replied.  "Goering is unconscious.  It was easier to move him.  He should be okay.  We only knocked him on the head a few times."  
  
Hogan sat back down on his bunk.  "Oh okay.  Go and get some shuteye then.  Tell the guards at the cooler I want to know when our new guest wakes up."  
  
"Yes, sir," Foster replied saluting Hogan.  
  
Hogan returned it.  "Excellent work, Sergeant."  
  
"Thank you, sir.  I'll tell the men," Foster said grinning.  
  
"You certainly can, but tell them, I'll be seeing them all later on as well," Hogan said.  After Foster had left, Hogan turned to Kinch.  "Anything else?"  
  
"No.  That is it," Kinch replied with a grin.  _Goering!  
_  
"Okay.  See to it that no one gets any bright ideas.  He is a VIP prisoner and will stay in the cooler.  Make sure his cell doesn't have a tunnel entrance in it," Hogan ordered.  
  
"Yes, sir," Kinch agreed as he left Hogan's quarters.  
  
"You should shoot him like the rabid animal he is," Birmingham said with venom in his voice.  
  
"No," Hogan replied.  "Not in my camp."  
  
"He has committed so many atrocities!  The reports of those camps I've read are horrifying!"  Birmingham protested.  
  
"I know.  I've seen one of those places you refer to.  One of the hardest things I've ever done is to leave that place still functioning after I left it."  Hogan shuddered visualizing that concentration camp in all its horrible detail again.  They had only gone to Dachau to pick up a report from a visiting messenger.  The contact had said that it was the safest place for them to meet.  The meeting had gone just fine, and the information gathered had saved the lives of many Allied service men.  But they had left that camp shaken men.  To see such horror, and to walk away from it had been a terrible burden to bear.  "The only thing I could do, was inform London of its existence, in hopes that they could bring some political pressure to bear.  The horror that that place was will haunt me forever.  And I know that Goering was responsible for that camp and the others like it.  But I will not execute him.  I will not be his judge and jury.  I've had to assassinate many people in this war.  I will not add a prisoner to that list."  
  
**Mission: Darmstadt Chemical Plant - Team Two  
Schonbornstrasse, Outside Aschaffenburg,   
April 21, 1945, 0405 Hours  
**  
Soule pulled the truck onto the major road that ran southeast between Frankfurt and Aschaffenburg.  He increased their speed as the road evened out onto pavement.  "We're about ten minutes from Aschaffenburg, sir," he told Captain O'Malley.  "After we drop our passengers off we'll only be about fifty miles from camp."  
  
"Good.  We could be back by dawn.  That would be best," O'Malley replied.  He remained quiet as Soule navigated the narrow streets of Aschaffenburg again.  Their two civilian members soon slipped out of the back of the truck and disappeared into the shadows.  Hopefully they would both be able to return safely to their homes.  Soule headed the truck out of the village and entered the city proper.  They were stopped at two checkpoints, each time passing without any difficulties.  
  
They were about 20 miles from camp when McSorley said, "Parachutes!  I count 12."    
  
"Where?" O'Malley demanded as Soule brought the truck to a halt.  
  
"About a mile to the east," McSorley replied wincing when the early morning quiet was punctuated by machine gun fire.  
  
"Looks like someone else has spotted them," O'Malley said grimly.  "Hope the poor bastards make it."  
  
"Aren't we going to do anything, Captain?" Lieutenant Brunelle asked.  The gunfire had startled all of the men who had been dozing in the back, awake.  
  
"What would you have me do, Lieutenant?  Am I to sacrifice all of you, for 12 or so commandos who may already be dead or captured?" O'Malley replied his voice harsh.  "My orders are to see all of you safely back to camp at the successful completion of our mission.  That's what I intend to do.  Besides," he added in a softer voice.  "We're dressed as goons, those men aren't going to welcome our aide with open arms."  
  
The quiet in the truck was absolute as each man strained to hear what was happening in the woods.  Finally after several minutes of quiet, O'Malley motioned for Soule to begin driving again. Soule sighed, but did as requested.  They had only driven a few minutes before Soule slammed on the breaks, narrowly avoiding a falling tree.    
  
**_Suddenly there was a ring of seven men around the truck…  
_**  
"Get out!" a voice demanded.  "'Raus. 'Raus," it continued in horrible German.  
  
"Captain?" Brunelle asked from the back of the truck looking down the rifle held by what was apparently an American commando.  
  
"Better do what he says, fellas," O'Malley said using his best Irish lilt.  O'Malley exited the truck, holding his hands at shoulder level.  "You boys created quite a disturbance earlier.  Anyone injured?"  
  
"Shut up, Fritz," the apparent leader of the group said.  
  
"Sure. Whatever you say.  But you know that patrol that fired on you, should be here shortly," O'Malley pointed out, joining his men where they stood at the side of the road.  
  
"Get the wounded into the truck," the leader said to one of his men, while holding his rifle steady on the German soldiers who had been in the truck.  
  
"Sir," one of the men inside the truck said.  "This truck's loaded with explosives!"  
  
"Tell him the crate under the left hand seat has a first aide kit," Sergeant McSorley helpfully called out.  
  
The leader glanced into the truck and was astonished to see that his man was right.  "What's going on here?" he asked.   
  
"You really don't want to discuss this here, do you?  You've obviously got wounded," O'Malley asked.  "Like I said that patrol will be here shortly.  I don't want to be here when it comes, and I sure as Hell don't think you want to be either."  
  
"All right. Get in the truck," the leader said, indicating that O'Malley's men should sit on the right side of the truck, while his men got in the back on the left.  "You're driving, Fritz," he said to O'Malley pulling out his handgun.  "I'm sure you'll get us by those patrols you keep mentioning."  
  
"Calm down, Major.  You're awful jumpy," O'Malley said quietly as he put the truck in gear and drove down the road.  "You won't get too far as a commando in occupied Germany if you're this high strung."  
  
"Enough.  Tell me about what you're carrying in this truck, Captain," the American Major ordered.  
  
O'Malley shrugged his shoulders.  "There isn't much to tell.  We're returning from a mission.  Those are the leftovers.  Just where am I taking you, Major?"   
  
"Taking us?" the Major asked.  
  
O'Malley rolled his eyes.  "You did have a destination, didn't you, Major?"  
  
"Not now!  Let's get back to you and your explosives.  Who are you?" the Major demanded.  
  
"In a minute, Major.  There should be a checkpoint just around this bend," O'Malley replied.  He gestured for the other to hide his handgun.  "I'll get you through."  
  
O'Malley stopped the truck at the checkpoint and chatted with the guard.  The guard laughed and passed their truck.  
  
"What did you tell him?" the Major demanded.  
  
"Only that we had captured you and your men and were turning you over to the Luft Stalag outside of Hammelburg," O'Malley replied.  
  
"I don't think so, Fritz.  I still have the upper hand here," the Major reminded him, producing the handgun from under his jacket.  
  
"If you say so.  So to get back to the earlier topic.  Where am I taking you?" O'Malley asked.  
  
"Schweinfurt," the Major replied. Then he continued angrily, "We were discussing you and your cargo."  
  
"Were we?" O'Malley asked innocently.  "Oh yes.  My explosives.  Do you need any supplies for whatever your mission is here, Major?  Like I said they're extras.  It's likely they won't have a target, and they'll go to waste.  It would be a real shame to waste such good explosives."  
  
The Major beside him grumbled, "Shut up."   
  
"The correct phrase would be – Halt' den Mund," O'Malley said helpfully.  "Really I don't know what this war is coming to when the commandos dropped can't even speak the language!"  
  
"I am warning you, Fritz," the Major said through clenched teeth.  
  
O'Malley glanced at his 'captor' and decided to stop needling the man.  He was obviously on edge.  "Lieutenant.  How are our passengers doing?" he called back to his own men in the back.  
  
"A couple look real bad, Captain.  The other one only has a leg wound," Brunelle called back.  
  
O'Malley heard a muffled uumpf from the back and then Brunelle's voice said.  "Easy there, mate.  I was only answering his question."  
  
"Major, I must protest," O'Malley said.  "I was only inquiring on your men's health.  You came to us with wounded.  What kind of a host would I be if I didn't even ask?"  
  
"You are no kind of a host, Captain," the Major replied hotly.  "You and your men are my prisoners."  
  
O'Malley shrugged his shoulders. "So you say, Major."  He continued to drive down a road that forked at the northern most point.  Left would go to Schweinfurt.  Right to Hammelburg and Stalag 13.  He was wondering what the high-strung Major would do when he turned the truck to the right.  He hoped the man wasn't up on local geography, though that was unlikely.  
  
"You took the wrong turn," the Major said indicating the turn O'Malley had just failed to take.  "Stop this truck and turn back."  
  
"Schweinfurt is almost 100 KM away.  How are you going to get there?  Besides, your injured aren't going to make it that far.  Come with us we can get your wounded treated by a doctor," O'Malley replied.  
  
"Stop this truck at once!  You're going to take us there," the Major ordered drawing the hammer back on his gun.  
  
O'Malley stopped the truck and kept his hands in plain sight on the steering wheel.  "Listen Major.  I'm going to be honest with you.  I'm not a German Captain.  I'm an Irish Captain in the RAF.  Captain Ian O'Malley at your service.  Your men need a safe place to recover from their injuries, and you were dropped quite far from your destination.  I can get you assistance from the underground.  Papa Bear is quite near here."   
  
"Papa Bear!" the Major repeated.  
  
"Yes," O'Malley agreed.  "You do know who Papa Bear is don't you?"  
  
"Of course I know who Papa Bear is!" the Major agreed hotly.  "Everyone knows that name!  Do you have any identification?"  
  
O'Malley grinned.  "Do you want my forged German orders or my dog tags?"  
  
"If you admit to one being forged, who's to say which one is forged and which is genuine?" the Major asked.  
  
O'Malley sighed.  "I guess you'll have to fill that one in for yourself, Major.  May I get my tags?"  
  
The Major gestured with his gun giving his approval.  O'Malley handed him the tags.  He watched as the American tried to read them in the dark.  "There's a flashlight strapped to the door beside you, Major."  
  
The Major glared at him and flicked on the flashlight.  "Okay.  Captain O'Malley.  So if you're who you say you are, what is going on here?"  
  
"We're a sabotage team sent by Papa Bear.  We're returning from blowing a chemical plant in Darmstadt.  We were on our way back to our base when you stopped us," O'Malley replied.  "So if you don't mind, Major, I'll bring you back as well.  You can sort your mission out with Papa Bear.  As I said earlier you are a long way from Schweinfurt."  
  
The Major was silent for a moment.    
  
"Listen.  Every moment you delay those men back there are bleeding.  Wouldn't you rather they were getting medical care?" O'Malley pointed out.  
  
"You have a doctor at your base?" the Major asked.  
  
"Yes.  A local.  He is a member of the underground.  So Major… may I?"  O'Malley gestured at the road.  
  
"Yes.  Go ahead," the Major gave in.   
  
**_About fifteen minutes later O'Malley stopped the truck at the camp entrance…  
_**  
"A prison camp?!" the Major yelled.  
  
"Where else would we hide, but in plain sight?" O'Malley asked with a grin.  Calling out to the guard at the gate, "Open up, it's Captain O'Malley." The gates opened and O'Malley drove in, stopping the truck outside the motor pool.    
  
Sergeant Doyle rushed up. "How did it go, Ian?" he asked.  
  
"No problems.  That factory went up like a roman candle.  There are leftovers in the back," O'Malley replied.  "These here are some commandos we picked up.  There are wounded in the back, as well.  Where's the Colonel?"  
  
**Mission:  Darmstadt Chemical Plant - Team Two  
Luft Stalag 13, Compound,   
April 21, 1945, 0510 Hours  
**  
Captain O'Malley headed for Barracks Two with the Commando Major, Dwayne Tonioli, in tow.  Doyle had told him that the Colonel was in his quarters.  Doyle had also told him that Hogan had nearly died in the past three days.  That would have been a devastating blow to the Allied invasion efforts, not to mention the demoralizing effect it would have had on the men here at Stalag 13.  He had only been a part of Hogan's team for a little over a year, but he had talked with men who had been here since the operations inception, and he had seen the operation for himself.  Hogan had created the most unbelievable organization deep in the heart of enemy territory.  There was nothing that O'Malley had seen that Hogan hadn't been able to plan around.  He was very proud to be a part of Papa Bear's team.    
  
"The men should be getting up soon anyway.  Roll Call is in twenty minutes," he told the Major as he opened the barrack's door.    
  
"Roll call?" Major Tonioli questioned.  
  
"Yeah.  This is still a prison camp.  Colonel Hogan didn't want any apparent outward changes, and so he still holds roll calls and the other scheduled activities here," O'Malley explained leading the way through the barracks.  Many of the men were still in their bunks, but a few were already up.  One of them, the diminutive French Corporal, was putting coffee on.  "Where's the Colonel, LeBeau?" O'Malley asked the Corporal not immediately seeing Kinch in the barracks.  
  
"In his quarters," LeBeau replied.  "How did your mission go, Captain?"  
  
"The mission went fine.  We picked up some strays on the way back though," O'Malley replied leading the way towards the Colonel's quarters.    
  
Just as he was about ready to knock on the door, it opened and Colonel Hogan walked out.  "Captain O'Malley.  Good to see that you're back.  Yours is the last team to return.  How did it go?"    
  
O'Malley was surprised by the Colonel's appearance.  The eye patch took some getting used to, but he said reporting, "There were no causalities among the team and we had no problems.  The plant went up like a huge roman candle.  But on the way back we had ten commandos drop in our laps.  They commandeered our truck, so I brought them here. They have wounded.  I left them with Doyle who said there was a triage set up."  
  
"Excellent job, Captain. You and your men should get some rest.  I'll come and see you later today," Hogan commended. Then he turned to face the American Commando and asked, "And you are?"  
  
"Major Tonioli, sir," the American Major replied saluting the superior officer.  
  
"Colonel Hogan.  Welcome to Stalag 13," Hogan replied.  "How badly wounded are your men?"  
  
"I have three wounded.  Two look to my eyes in bad condition.  The third just seems to have a few broken bones," Tonioli replied.  "I understand you have a doctor here?"  
  
"Yes, he's excellent.  If humanly possible, your men will make it," Hogan reassured.  "What else can I help you with, Major?"  
  
"My mission is in Schweinfurt," Tonioli replied.  "I understand it's a long way from here."  
  
"Yes.  I can help you get there.  What is your mission?" asked Hogan.  _What could London possibly want in Schweinfurt?  The only thing of importance there was the airbase and London knew that we were taking it out.  Maybe this was going to be about Goering running south.  
_  
"I can't tell you that, Colonel," Tonioli replied. "I'm sorry.  It's confidential."  
  
"Then I can't help you," Hogan replied glancing at his watch.  "Outside, gentlemen.  It's almost time for our morning roll call."  
  
Most of the men left the barracks.  "Wait," Tonioli said.  "Captain O'Malley said I would be able to speak with Papa Bear and he would be able to help."  
  
Newkirk grinned as he walked between the two men on the way out the door.  "You are talking with 'im, mate."  
  
Tonioli turned back to Hogan in the empty barracks. "You're Papa Bear?!"  
  
Hogan grinned, "Last time I checked. -- So Major.  What is your mission?"  
  
"London received intelligence that Reischsmarschall Goering was on the run.  He was projected to go through Schweinfurt.  London wanted Goering captured to answer for all that he has done," Tonioli replied.  
  
"London was right, he was in Schweinfurt two days ago.  He's not there now," Hogan replied.  "It seems you landed in the right place anyway Major.  Reischsmarschall Goering was captured by one of my teams. He is sitting in a cell in the cooler across the compound," Hogan replied with a smirk.  
  
"You have Reischsmarschall Goering???!" Major Tonioli demanded astonished.  
  
"Yes.  I haven't yet had time to inform London of his whereabouts.  The team that brought him in did so a couple hours ago.  So Major.  You can relax.  Your job is done," Hogan assured.  
  
"What are you going to do with him?" Tonioli asked.  
  
"My plan was to turn him over to the Allied force liberating this camp," Hogan replied.  "What were your orders regarding Goering, if you had been successful?"  
  
"We were to sit on him.  The US 7th Army is in the area and we were to turn him over to them," Tonioli replied.  "But I say.  He'll be much more secure here than any place we could have come up with."  
  
**Luft Stalag 13, Kommandant's Office,   
April 21, 1945, 0800 Hours  
**  
Hogan had taken another turn around the camp. Everything was running smoothly.  All of his Teams had returned safely with only 6 wounded.  It was a remarkable accomplishment, even if he did have to say so himself.  He had expected that the casualties from his own men would be higher.  However, it still did not take away the fact that he had ordered the death of hundreds two nights ago. _And I now have many more people depending on me.  Now begins the true waiting game.  I am still unsure of what is coming next.  We can't make a move, until the Allied forces arrive.  We are still boxed in here.  I just hope I can keep everyone fed, healthy and occupied until that time.  
_  
He hadn't planned on coming into Klink's office, but he had wanted a place that he could be sure of not being interrupted.  He needed time to think and usually he was able to think in his office, but with Kyle bunking in there, it was no longer private.  Hogan sat behind Klink's desk, reached into his pocket and drew out the box and envelope that had been on his desk since Major Killian had handed them to him.  After opening the box and putting it on the desk, he withdrew his orders from their envelope and placed them carefully on the desk, one on each side of the box.  
  
He stared at them for a long time, contemplating exactly what they meant.  It had taken Kyle's bullheaded attitude to wake him to the fact that they meant more than just a posthumously awarded gesture. He had been promoted to General a few months after his plane had been shot down. That probably meant that the promotion had been in the works prior to his last mission.  More than likely he would have been grounded fairly soon after that mission.   
  
Hogan had found out during his stay at Stalag 13, from a visiting Luftwaffe General named Biedenbender that he, as the commander of the 504th, had been singled out for elimination by Germany's illustrious Luftwaffe.  Hogan and his squadron had continuously out maneuvered the Luftwaffe during their raids.  This Biedenbender, before becoming a General, had been assigned the task of studying Hogan's tactics and was personally responsible for eliminating the American Squadron Commander.  Biedenbender confirmed that his plans had indeed come to fruition on that night when Hogan's plane was shot down.  Many of the Luftwaffe pilots had been ordered to target Hogan's bomber specifically. Captured or dead. Either was a victory, according to Biedenbender.   
  
_I do remember that night. There was a considerable amount of flack aimed at my plane. Damn. I haven't thought about the men that died during that mission in a long time. Those Bastards! We never had a chance! -- Listen to yourself, Hogan! It's not the German's fault. You would have done the same in reverse. If you hadn't been so damn cocky, those men might be still with you today.   
  
But where would I be today? I'd probably be assigned to Headquarters in London. A desk jockey. A paper pusher.  Not exactly my style.  I probably would have accepted the promotion, continuing the proper course for a military career. At the time, that was all that mattered. Like I said to Kyle, the war was more of a game then. I never had to think about the lives that I destroyed with each bombing mission.  
  
In a way, I guess, I should thank Biedenbender. He made it possible for me to stay an active participant in this war. I've done things I'm not proud of, but this command has been special. The people here, be they German civilians or my fellow POWs, have taught me the value of each individual. It has been a hard lesson, but one worth learning. And I know we've made a difference. Our operation has been vital to the Allied War Effort.   
  
Hmm, I wonder.   
_  
_What if I had actually gone home, that time, when headquarters ordered me to? -- Come to think of it, that was about a year and a half ago. -- My second promotion -- I almost did go home. But I couldn't leave these people under the care of Colonel Crittendon.  He's a nut.  How the Hell headquarters thought he could take over was beyond me.  Ah! Maybe that was the whole point.  Maybe the powers that be knew I wouldn't come back, so they sent Crittendon as a failsafe, knowing I couldn't leave him in charge.   
  
And I thought I had mastered the art of manipulation!  
_  
Hogan was interrupted as the door leading to Klink's quarters opened.  Colonel Klink was almost to the desk before he realized that the office was not empty. "Excuse me, Colonel Hogan," Klink said startled.  "I didn't expect to find you here. I was just coming in for a cigar."  
  
"Certainly, by all means, come ahead, I'm through now," Hogan replied standing, too quickly, all the while trying to casually close the box containing his stars, as well as trying to fold the two papers back into their envelope.  
  
Klink noticed that Hogan was attempting to conceal the material on the desk from him.  But Klink had already seen the contents of the box and he was sure he knew what the papers were.  Hogan had been promoted and was now a Two-Star General.  _Amazing.  This man is full of surprises._  As Klink opened the humidor on the desk he said, "I'd been meaning to ask you since yesterday how a Colonel could get away with dressing down a One-Star General."  Klink came to attention, heels clicking, and saluted. "Congratulations, General."  
  
Hogan returned the box and envelope to his pocket and answered Klink.  "Congratulations are not necessary, Colonel. I have yet to accept these promotions.  They don't have any bearing on my command here. But they do come in handy when one has to deal with closed-minded Generals."  Hogan also came to attention, returned the salute and left the Kommandant's office without another word.  
  
Klink watched as Hogan left. _So Hogan has received two promotions while he was my prisoner here. This operation of Hogan's has to be very important to the Allies. Especially since it seems that they hadn't told Hogan until recently that he was a General.  Not to mention a Two-Star General. If he had known, he could have easily been sent back home, as Generals were swapped as a matter of course. Amazing. I guess though, there was no reasonable explanation for why Hogan would be promoted during his internment at Stalag 13. The Allies had no choice, if they had told him, his operation would have been revealed._  
  
**Luft Stalag 13, Barracks Two,   
April 21, 1945, 0930 Hours  
**  
Kinch had just reported to Hogan, that London knew that he and his men had Reischsmarschall Goering under wraps, as well as having rescued the commandos sent to capture him.  "Thanks Kinch, I'm sure rumors are now starting to fly. Do we have enough protection for Goering? I will not be responsible for his death. I'll let others make those decisions," said Hogan.  
  
"Yes, sir. I personally chose the guards myself. I know they will obey orders and not let their emotions get in the way. I have fifteen men lined up, five each shift," reported Kinch.  
  
"Good.  Do you know if he has woken up yet?" asked Hogan. "Should I have the doctor check him out?"  
  
"He was still out cold forty-five minutes ago. The guards know to come get you when he does wake up," said Kinch. "The doctor is presently working on the injured commandos. He may not have time." He gave the Colonel a look that said the doctor probably shouldn't be the one to examine Goering.  
  
"Maybe it would be better for Wilson to check on him. Emotions will be running high about Goering. Let's not complicate the issue," said Hogan, having read Kinch's face when he suggested Freiling.  
  
"Yes, sir.  I will go with Wilson myself, just to make sure nothing happens," Kinch answered.  
  
"Good.  Have Goering looked at as soon as possible. I'm going to inform Kommandant Klink about our new guest.  Then I will return here," Hogan said. "You may officially inform the camp of his presence. Just make sure the men guarding him are ready for anything. You know where to find me."  
  
"Yes, sir," acknowledged Kinch.   
  
Both men went their separate ways. Kinch went to find Wilson and Hogan went to inform Klink.    
  
Hogan entered the Kommandant's quarters purposefully. "Good morning, Colonel. Schultz," he said. "I need to again start off with an apology.  I have kept something from you, as well as from most of the camp.  It has to do with one of the last teams that returned around 0300 Hours today. They returned with an extraordinary package."  
  
"And what might that package be?" asked Klink at first worried, but Hogan's expression wasn't one that would instill fear, he just appeared cautious.  
  
Hogan took a deep breath.  "I'm sorry.  I wanted to phrase this better, but I can't think of a way to do it." He paused. "My men have captured Reischsmarschall Hermann Goering. They intercepted him, as he tried to flee Germany.  He's being held under heavy guard in the cooler.  He too, will be turned over to the liberating force to face charges for war crimes. Until that time, he will be kept under heavy guard, and remain in solitary confinement," Hogan said, not sure what Klink's reaction would be.  
  
Klink turned away from Hogan and walked to the other side of the room.  He was quiet for a long moment.  That announcement had stirred many mixed emotions in him. He no longer had any use for those who were supposed to be the leaders of his country. They had all fled and left his country in shambles. He really wouldn't mind if the man was dead, but Hogan was going to treat him like a prisoner, making sure he would face a judge and jury for his crimes.  _I suppose a quick death would be the easy way out._  Klink was interrupted from his thoughts, when he heard Hogan address him again.   
  
"Colonel Klink," Hogan said softly, trying to get his attention. The man had almost turned white when Hogan told him of his new prisoner.  
  
"I'm sorry, Colonel Hogan," he said turning back to face the American Colonel.  "Thank you for informing me.  As an officer, I respect your ability to be impartial to your prisoner.  As a man forsaken by his government, I'd prefer to see him die painfully slow for the atrocities he's committed," Klink paused sighing heavily and his body began to tremble as he fought to control his emotions.   
  
"I will not be his judge and jury Kommandant," said Hogan evenly, noticing that Klink was trembling. Hogan couldn't fathom what Klink, and for that matter other German citizens, must be feeling now. Trying to come to terms with all that their government has done.  All the conflicting emotions welling to the surface, the grief, the hatred and fear.  
  
"I understand your position, Colonel Hogan.  I may not like it,  but I do understand it," Klink said flatly and turned to look out the window into the compound.  He noticed Kinch and Wilson heading in the direction of his quarters from the cooler.    
  
Hogan had started to leave without another word.   
  
"Colonel, your men, Kinchloe and Wilson are heading in this direction. They appear rather anxious," Klink announced.  
  
"Thank you, Colonel Klink," Hogan left quickly to meet his approaching officers.  
  
Klink returned to the window, noticing that both of Hogan's men looked a little ragged. Hogan started, almost immediately, lambasting his men in the compound. Klink had never heard Hogan do that before.  _I wonder what happened? Obviously it is about Goering.  
_  
**_Hogan upon meeting his men in the compound, bellowed…   
_**  
"What the hell happened to you two?!" He couldn't believe what he saw… Kinch was sporting a bloody nose, and Wilson had a huge egg on his head.   
  
"Sorry, Colonel.  We underestimated Goering.  He had been only pretending to sleep. As Wilson went to examine him, Goering attacked him.  I jumped in on the fray. It took a few minutes to subdue him," Kinch reported sheepishly, knowing that he should never have been caught of-guard like that.  
  
"You underestimated him! What are you stupid?  He and his cronies were out for world domination, for Christ sake. They almost succeeded. And you underestimated him!  What the hell is the matter with you?" Hogan exploded. He was fuming and couldn't catch his breath. Pain, from his ribs, shot through him like a knife. Hogan stood there for a long moment trying to compose himself. Finally he said angrily, "What condition is the prisoner in?"  
  
Kinch had actually taken a couple of steps backward from Hogan's tirade. He responded quietly, "Sir.  I'm very sorry, sir. Goering is okay, sir. He may have a few bruises, but other than that he's fine, sir." Kinch fell silent, not moving. He had messed up bad and he knew it. He noticed Hogan was waiting for him to continue. Kinch took a deep breath. "The Reischsmarschall is presently handcuffed and shackled, sir.  I recommend taking no more chances, sir.  I feel he should remain in handcuffs and shackles until the liberation army arrives, sir."  
  
"That could be as much as a month away, Sergeant! Do you mean to tell me that you and your men cannot handle this prisoner?" Hogan asked furiously.  He continued not waiting for an answer.  "He will only be handcuffed and shackled if he's being moved, other than that he will be confined to his cell. No one will enter, unless there are at least two additional people in the room with them. Is that understood, Sergeant?"   
  
"Perfectly, sir," said Kinch saluting. "I will relay your orders immediately, sir." Kinch paused still holding the salute. "May I go, sir?"  
  
Hogan didn't return the salute.  "Dismissed.  I will be there in ten minutes to see our new guest. Make sure there is no evidence of your altercation or I will come down on you hard, for beating a prisoner," Hogan said hotly.    
  
Kinch finished the salute.  Both he and Wilson turned and left quickly.  
  
Hogan was still fuming as he reached his quarters.  Doc Freiling and Kyle were in the barracks when he returned. They both avoided eye contact with him as he walked in the door. _Obviously that hadn't stayed a private conversation. I must have made quite an impression.  
_  
"Doctor, how are the injured commandos?" asked Hogan.  
  
"It will be touch and go for the two with the more serious injuries. I can not make a determination at this point," Doc Freiling told him. "The third will be fine, just some broken bones."   
  
"Thank you. Please keep me posted." Hogan paused and when no one spoke, he continued, "Doctor, you are here to give me another shot.  Are you not?"   
  
"Yes. Of course, Colonel," Freiling said quickly approaching Hogan, but his mind was elsewhere. He just couldn't believe that Hogan's men had captured Reischsmarschall Goering. _That monster is here in this camp.  _  
  
There was continued silence during the time the shot was administered. "If you'll excuse me, gentlemen, I have to meet our new guest," said Hogan evenly, heading for the door.  
  
"Excuse me, Colonel," Birmingham interrupted as Hogan went to leave. Hogan had been so edgy since the missions were to have gone off, that Kyle had been trying to keep his distance, but he needed to say something before Hogan met the Reischsmarschall.  "May I make a suggestion?"  
  
Hogan sighed, but stopped. He hadn't really had a complete conversation with Kyle, since he pushed him out of his way the other night. _Was he trying to avoid me?_  "What suggestion?"  
  
"Perhaps you should dress the part, when you go and speak with your new guest.  He's not going to be all that impressed with an American Colonel," Birmingham suggested, hoping not to set the Colonel off again.  
  
"What!" Hogan replied glaring at the General.    
  
_Didn't work,_ thought Kyle.   
  
Hogan's gaze softened as Kyle's meaning became clear.  He could dress as a Two-Star General.  While not quite the same rank as the prisoner, at least it was much closer than a Colonel.  "Sorry.  You're right.  I should," Hogan apologized.  He turned and entered his quarters.  
  
A few moments later he emerged sporting the two stars and carrying his bomber jacket.  "This doesn't go any more," Hogan commented.  "Kyle, how about loaning me yours?"  
  
Moments later he exited barrack two, dressed as a Two-Star American General, and headed for the cooler. He noticed people avoiding him. _Like the plague._ He knew emotions would run high about their guest. He was sure he was doing the proper thing, but he understood the feelings on the other side of the coin as well.  _But, I will not be his judge and jury.  
_  
Hogan entered the cooler.  He now had three prisoners there.  He hadn't talked to Major Kalb yet, because he was planning on getting a first hand account of his treatment of POWs from the men of Camp 19 before he confronted Kalb. His interview could wait until after the POWs have some time to get acclimated.  
  
Hogan noticed that there were nine guards now stationed around the cooler. _Possibly overkill, but I just can't take any chances._ The nine guards practically jumped out of their skin, when they saw him_. Obviously they heard my little tirade. Good. Maybe it will keep them on their toes. And alive.  I've got to keep these guys from getting too cocky. That's when mistakes happen. We've been incredibly successful up to now. I hope our luck holds out.  
_  
Kinch was waiting for him at the cell door, when he arrived. Hogan acknowledged Kinch's presence with a nod, and then indicated he was ready to see their new guest. Kinch and two armed guards preceded Hogan into the cell. Upon entering, the guards took up defensive positions in opposite corners nearest the cell door. Hogan was glad Kinch had taken him at his word. Nothing would be left to chance anymore.  Hogan waited a moment to enable his men to be ready.  With a figurative deep breath, he prepared himself for his first glimpse of the Reischsmarschall. He entered the cell to see Goering seated on the cell's cot.  He was a big, portly man, clean-shaven but with several days' stubble on his chin.  His eyes were an icy steel blue, the type that could stare right through you.    
  
"Reischsmarschall Goering.  I am General Robert Hogan.  You are currently at Stalag 13, a German POW camp outside of Hammelburg.  I now control this Luft Stalag and you are my prisoner," Hogan began, never flinching as Goering glared at him.  "You will be held here until the Allied Liberating Forces arrive.  When that happens you will be turned over to them, and formally charged and tried under the newly formed War Crimes Commission."  
  
In one swift movement, Reischsmarschall Goering stood and headed toward General Hogan.  The two guards and Kinch, who were prepared for such an attempt, moved in and were able to physically restrain the Reischsmarschall.  Goering struggled but had no recourse but to stop.  He then shouted a string of vulgar German, making direct eye contact with Hogan, "Du verdammter Hurenshon. Fahr' zur Hoelle!"  
  
Hogan blinked and exchanged a knowing glance with Kinch. He looked back squarely at Reischsmarschall Goering and replied in fluent and equally vulgar German, "Also meiner Meinung nach hoeren. Sie sich an, Wei… ein verdammtes Arscloch!"  
  
Reischsmarschall Goering made some guttural noise and threw himself at the American General.  He had not expected the American General to be so fluent with the German language. When he was unable to free himself from the guards this time, he spat in the American General's direction.  
  
Hogan didn't even flinch, instead he said in a cold voice, "I have no use for you, nor do I have time to deal with your outbursts.  You have no rights here. You will be here for the duration of this war.  You will keep a civil tongue in your head.  You do not wish for me to be called back here to deal with your insubordination."  Without another word, Hogan turned and left the cell followed by Kinch then finally the two guards.  The cell door was securely locked.  
  
Goering was at the cell door yelling in English this time, "You can not control me! No one controls Reischsmarschall Goering!"  
  
Hogan stopped and turned back to the cell.  "That makes one outburst, Reischsmarschall.  Another such outburst, and I will gladly have you gagged, handcuffed and shackled for the rest of this war." Goering fell silent, contemplating how he would escape if he were gagged, handcuffed and shackled. He would bide his time, knowing that there must be a way out.   
  
Hogan walked away with Kinch. As they exited the cooler, Hogan started removing Kyle's jacket as well as any insignia labeling him a General.  Kinch followed closely in-step behind Hogan.  Hogan wasn't sure he wanted to let Kinch off the hook yet. He could have gotten himself and others killed earlier today.  But Hogan couldn't cope with the tin-soldier routine Kinch had fallen into since their confrontation.   
  
"All right, Kinch.  That's enough," Hogan said as he stopped and faced the Sergeant.  
  
Kinch actually flinched and took a step back, as Hogan turned. "Enough what, sir?" Kinch said a little panicked.   
  
"Calm down, Kinch," said Hogan frustrated. "Stop the perfect soldier routine. Okay? You're making me crazy, following me around and yes sir'ing me to death."  
  
"Oh sorry, sir," said Kinch and the he noticed Hogan sigh heavily. "Sorry," Kinch said pausing. "I know I messed up this morning.  I just don't now how I can make it up to you."  
  
"The fact that everyone survived that little mishap is enough for me. Just make sure you and other men don't get too cocky, all right? There's still too much war left.  I don't want to lose men over stupid mistakes," replied Hogan  "Okay?"  
  
"Okay," Kinch said visibly relieved.   
  
Both men returned to Barracks Two. Hogan retired to his quarters, changed back into his regular uniform, and decided to get some rest, as he had been up all night.   
  
**_But only a short time later, Hogan heard a knock on his door…    
_**  
"Come," he said.   
  
Kinch peeked his head in the door.  "Colonel, we have a problem. There is a contingent of the underground waiting outside for you. They want to talk to you about Goering.  They do not appear very happy, sir."  
  
"Tell them, I'll be right there. Make sure the guards at the cooler are on their toes. Block all tunnel entrances to the cooler, post guards at the entrances as well.  I don't want any mishaps. Goering will be alive to face the war crimes commission," Hogan said.  
  
"Yes, sir," said Kinch, as he closed the door and went to make sure all the precautions to keep Goering alive were in place.  
  
**_And then, just a few minutes later…  
_**  
Hogan exited Barracks Two and found himself faced with fifteen of the men from the underground. He was surprised to find Doc Freiling also part of this group.  "What's the problem, gentleman?" he asked calmly.  
  
"Don't pretend you don't know, Colonel. We want Reischsmarschall Goering turned over to us.  He needs to pay for his crimes and atrocities. And who better to dole out punishment than those of us who have seen first hand, the results of his actions," said Hermann Schlick.  Heinrich Berger and the other men were all nodding, expressing their agreement, although Doc Freiling continued to stay very quiet.   
  
Hogan knew this would be nothing more than vigilante justice if he turned Goering over to them. They were all good men, who had done, and were subjected to, horrible things during this war. Their present emotional and mental states would not allow them to see beyond the anger.   
  
As the men were getting louder and more agitated, he realized that a lot of the POWs were also starting to gather as well.  _I can't let this turn into a lynch mob._ "Gentlemen, gentleman," he said holding up his hands, in a stopping gesture. "Let's just settle down for a minute.  I understand how you feel. You know me, and you know how I work. I cannot give you what you want. You'll have to trust me that the Reischsmarschall will be tried for his crimes. We just can't do it here and now.  It would be vigilante justice."  
  
Many of the POWs had now intermingled with the men from the underground. They were definitely turning into a mob. They started to surge toward Hogan. One of them yelled, "We don't need his permission. Let's just go get him now." Agreement was coming from all sides. "Let's hang him," someone yelled.   
  
The swelling tide of men turned toward the cooler.   
  
Hogan got out in front of them again and tried to stop them. "You can't do this. This is wrong. He is now a prisoner and will be accorded the rights of a prisoner.  Goering will face a judge and jury for his crimes. I promise you that justice will prevail," Hogan said almost pleading with the angry crowd to stop.   
  
It wasn't working. The crowd appeared as if they would walk right over Hogan. But before that happened, machinegun fire rang out. Kinch was standing in front of the cooler, with what looked like the nine 'German' guards assigned there. The gunfire was aimed straight up in the air. It was meant to distract, not injure. It had scared the living bejeezers out of Hogan, as well as that of the angry crowd.    
  
Hogan said again, "You can't do this. I promise you that justice will prevail.  Have I ever lied to you before? We just can't take justice into our own hands."  
  
Doc Freiling and General Birmingham joined Hogan on his side of the 'fence'.  Doc Freiling said, "Colonel Hogan is correct. Look at yourselves. You almost trampled the one man who has worked with us to end this bloody mess. Go back to your quarters. This was wrong. Go back."    
  
The compound was very quiet for a long moment. Very slowly the men started to disperse. Hogan, Kyle and Doc Freiling, as well as Kinch and his 'Germans', stayed in place until the compound had returned to normal.  
  
**_Watching from the window of the Kommandant's quarters…  
_**  
Colonel Klink and Sergeant Schultz had seen the angry mob gather and they watched as Hogan had almost lost control of the situation. The civilians and POWs were enraged that Hogan would try and save Goering's worthless hide.  _I'm impressed again with Hogan's ability as a soldier. He would have stood his ground until it ended one way or the other.  He's lucky he has loyal men to back him up._  He knew Hogan understood both sides, but being able to keep those emotions in check to do the 'right thing', was not something that Klink thought he would have been able to do.  
  
**_Meanwhile back in the compound…  
_**  
Hogan had let out a huge sigh of relief.  _That was too damn close!_  He walked over to where Kinch and the other men stood. "Thank you, gentlemen. I appreciate your support in this matter.  Please keep on your toes.  Emotions are running high and are just too unpredictable."   
  
"Yes, sir," they replied in unison.   
  
Kinch then ordered them back to the original duties. Kinch and Hogan headed back to Barracks Two.  Doc Freiling and General Birmingham joined them as they went by.  
  
Doc Freiling said, "Colonel.  I'm very sorry about that. I will talk to the other men this evening. I won't let it happen again.  Finding out that that monster was only 100 yards away, was more than they, and I, could handle. I promise you, your wishes will be followed."  
  
"Thanks, Doc, let's just hope it's over. We, the entire group of us, have more important things to deal with. We still don't know how long we will be here. We are going to need to come up with a plan that keeps morale up and everyone busy.  I don't want anyone to have much time to think," he explained, though his mind quickly changed gears.    
  
"Kinch," Hogan ordered having turned to face his second in command. "Have LeBeau, Carter, and Newkirk conduct an inventory of all our available food provisions.  I want to know how long we can hold out with what's on hand.  Then I want you to set up a meeting for tomorrow morning at 0900 in the Mess Hall, with all barrack's leaders, including the Camp 19 Senior Officers, as well as members of the underground. Kommandant Klink and Schultz should be invited as well."  
  
"Yes, sir," replied Kinch.  
  
"Good.  I'm going to get some sleep."  Hogan entered Barracks Two, and headed directly for his quarters.   
  
Doc Freiling looked at his watch, 2:00pm, and said, "Colonel.  It's that time again.  If I may, I would like to examine you before you go to sleep."  
  
"Fine, Doc.  Fine," Hogan acquiesced, hoping these examinations would be over soon. He was still sore and had the eye patch, but the headaches were all but gone. _It is so much easier to think without your head pounding and you aren't feeling dizzy all the time.  
_  
The examination consisted of the pain tolerance maneuvers the doctor had been perfecting over the past three weeks, as well as checking for the vision in Hogan's right eye. "Your eye doesn't appear to have changed much in the last two days.  Do you see any difference, Colonel?"  
  
"All I can make out is light and shadows.  I can tell that there are some objects around me, but not what they are.  It's confusing," Hogan replied, trying to make sense out of what his right eye was seeing.  
  
"Well you'll have to continue to wear the patch until there is some definite improvement.  In the meantime, we can begin to cut down on the antibiotics and pain medication.  You'll need to be weaned off slowly. Both medications have an addicting quality.  As for the sedative, I will let you decide. If you feel you need one, just let me know. Okay?"  
  
"Do you mean that you and I won't be having these clandestine meetings every four hours anymore?" asked Hogan sarcastically, but with a wide grin as well.   
  
"Correct, Colonel.  But I don't give up that easy. We will need to meet at least twice a day for another week," Doc Freiling replied with a smirk of his own.   
  
"Okay, Doc.  Thanks for everything," Hogan said. He headed for his bunk immediately after watching the doctor leave.   
  
**End of Second Quarter_  
  
  
_**


	3. Third Quarter

This story chronicles what we felt were the last days of WWII in Luft Stalag 13.  The major historical events that we wrote about actually happened, though admittedly we took certain liberties on how they happened. The familiar Hogan's Heroes characters aren't ours; the rest are.  But they are free to use if you so wish. (Our only requirement here is that you do not use Toby unless you treat his character with tender loving care! He represents an important aspect of, or insight into, the authors' lives.) _ Hint… There will be a test later… Who is Toby?_   
  
**End Game  
Third Quarter  
**  
**_Only two hours after the Colonel went to bed…  
_**  
Kinch received some disturbing information through Hogan's many underground contacts that the Colonel would want to hear.  Kinch had actually confirmed the information with London as well.  And London had been reluctant to confirm it. _I can understand why.  It certainly didn't look good for the Allies, especially not good for the American forces.  
_  
Kinch knocked on the Colonel's door. When he heard the 'come', he entered quietly saying, "Sorry to wake you, Colonel. I have some disturbing news that I thought you might want to hear. I didn't think it could wait."  
  
Hogan, who had still been lying on his back, swung his legs out onto the floor and sat up. "What news, Kinch?" he asked.  
  
Kinch closed the door behind him and said, "Colonel, I got word of two separate incidents regarding the capture and or treatment of German POWs by American Forces. The information came in from the underground first. I confirmed it with London to be sure. London wasn't too happy about confirming it, but they didn't deny it either.  So I'm fairly certain the information has to be true.  It's bad, sir." Kinch paused, not sure whether to let the Colonel read the news, or if he should just tell him.  
  
Hogan noticed that Kinch wasn't reacting well to telling him the news. He asked quietly, "What happened, Kinch?  Is it really that bad?"  
  
"Sorry, sir," Kinch replied. "The first incident occurred in late March, while American troops were transporting, by train, German POWs to two new detainment camps in France.  127 German POWs died from heatstroke and asphyxiation. They had been left in sealed railcars and the weather had been very warm. There were reports of hearing the POWs yelling for help and being ignored by their American guards."  
  
Hogan looked up solemnly at Kinch. "And the second incident?" he asked. _We are supposed to be the good guys? How could this happen?  
_  
"The second incident was just recently, sir, when American forces liberated a concentration camp in Northern Germany.  The reports say that the Germans had surrendered the camp.  The American soldiers then forced all the guards, officers, and Kommandant to form ranks. A number of machine-guns were positioned and the German prisoners executed.  There were no survivors," Kinch reported.   
  
Hogan wanted to throw-up. He had always steeled himself against hearing the atrocities committed by Hitler's Nazis.  He wasn't ready to believe that his fellow countryman could be guilty of the same. "Is that all, Kinch?" Hogan asked.  _Isn't that enough.  
_  
"Yes, sir," said Kinch. Both men were quiet for a long moment, neither making eye contact.  Kinch started to leave, assuming that since Hogan hadn't said anything, he probably wanted to be alone to digest this information.   
  
Hogan ran his hands through his hair, looked up at Kinch and said faltering, "What am I supposed to do now?" Hogan embarrassed quickly glanced away from Kinch.  _Pull it together man. You're the one in charge here._   
  
"Sir?" asked Kinch confused, as he had never heard the Colonel so indecisive before.  The man had come up with the craziest schemes almost without batting an eye.  Kinch didn't know what to say to him now.  
  
**_After another long moment of silence…  
_**  
Hogan said more confidently, "Sorry, Kinch.  I'm worried that I can't trust the Allies to properly care for my German POWs.  I'm not sure what to do.  I promised Klink that I would keep his men safe."  Hogan paused.  "Can you picture either Klink or Schultz suffocating in a sealed train car? Or for that matter, facing a loaded machine-gun?" he asked rhetorically shaking his head. "Kinch, round up Carter, LeBeau and Newkirk. Tell them what has happened. Come back here immediately.  Don't say anything to anyone else about this. Understood?"  
  
"Yes, sir.  Right away, sir," Kinch acknowledged and disappeared out the office door.   
  
Hogan had a plan, but he wanted his men's opinions before he went through with it. Normally he wouldn't have to ask. They generally agreed with his assessment. This time though, he wanted a consensus, because what he had in mind went totally against any and all regulations. He hoped he could convince them.  If not, he would do what he had too and turn over the prisoners to the Allied liberation force.  
  
**_Kinch, Carter, LeBeau, and Newkirk entered his office about ten minutes later…  
  
_**By the look on their faces, Kinch had indeed told them what had happened. "Gentlemen, I'm in a quandary.  I don't trust the American Forces to take care of our prisoners. More specifically, our own Stalag 13 guards, if I turn them over.  I have no qualms about handing over Goering and Burkhalter.  I'm not sure about the Germans from Camp 19.  I will talk to Major Boynton about them."   
  
He paused. "What I am going to propose is something I will not do unless everyone in this room agrees. It's totally against regulations, and it's possible we could have a repeat incident from this morning." Before he could continue, everyone began talking at the same time.   
  
Carter said sighing, "Sir, can't we just let them go?"   
  
LeBeau jumped in, "I don't want to think of poor Schultzie that way, sir.  I can get enough civilian clothes ready."    
  
Newkirk chimed in as well, "The paperwork would be easy, Colonel. A snap. Done in no time at all."  
  
Hogan smiled broadly at his men. _They can read me like a book._ "Kinch, what do you think?" Everyone turned and stared at Kinch.  
  
"I won't be the last holdout, Colonel. Let's do it," replied Kinch.  
  
"You're all sure?  You want to do this?" asked Hogan. "We could be in for a fight with the others in camp. I just want you to be sure."  
  
"Excuse me, Colonel.  But who are you trying to convince, us or yourself?" asked Newkirk. "We're behind you, sir. Most of the Stalag 13 guards aren't even old enough to know what 'war' means. The rest are harmless old men. Poor Klink and Schultz wouldn't stand a minute with the 'real' enemy.  They were all very instrumental, whether they knew it or not, in our success here, sir.  I can't see myself letting something bad happen to 'em."  
  
Everyone seemed in agreement.    
  
"Kinch, have Major Boynton come see me at 1800 Hours. I want to find out what I can about the Camp 19 officers, before we do anything else. Keep this quiet for now. Check to make sure we can have enough supplies available to move the guards as fast as possible. Do it discreetly, until I'm ready to inform everyone of our plans," ordered Hogan.  
  
"Yes, sir," they replied together and headed for the door.   
  
Hogan laid back down on his bunk. _God, I hope I'm doing the right thing.   
_  
**Luft Stalag 13, Compound,   
April 21, 1945, 1800 Hours  
**  
Hogan, having just finished dinner, was on his way back to his quarters where he was expecting to meet with Major Boynton. He wanted to find out how the new POWs were fairing, although he really needed to know what he was to do with the Camp 19 Kommandant, officers and guards.  _The guards here, at Stalag 13, have never been dangerous.  They need more protection than the POWs.  But, Camp 19 might be a different story._ Hogan wanted to hear about their treatment from the horse's mouth, per se.   
  
**_But before Hogan got too far…   
_**  
He was startled when confronted with a large group of his men, standing in ranks outside the mess hall. _Not again?  
_  
"Sir," Captain Jeffrey Duncan from Barracks Sixteen said as he came forward and saluted. All the others stood ramrod straight, at attention. "We're here to apologize for our actions earlier today.  We were way out of line.  It won't happen again, sir.  We will support your decision regarding Reischsmarschall Goering," Duncan said awkwardly.   
  
"Very good, Captain," Hogan replied returning the salute.  "I accept your apology.  I understand everyone's emotional reaction toward this man.  He is certainly not my favorite human being." _That is, if he even qualifies as one._  "But it is my responsibility to see that he is treated fairly and turned over to the proper authorities.  Dismissed."  Hogan stood for a moment watching the men disperse, and then he continued on his way back to his quarters.   
  
**_Meanwhile back at Barracks Two…  
_**  
Major Boynton had arrived a few minutes early.  When he entered the barracks it was empty, except for a lone man seated at the table.  The man turned as he entered and Boynton straightened immediately.  "General, sir!  Excuse me, sir. Colonel Hogan asked me to meet him here, sir."  
  
"Certainly, have a seat, Major. I'm sure Hogan will be back shortly.  Are you settling in okay?" Birmingham asked, trying to put the man at ease.    
  
"Yes, sir," Boynton replied gingerly as he sat himself at the table.  Hogan had told them during their briefing that there was a General in camp as an observer from London, but that the final authority in the camp was still Hogan's.  
  
Hogan entered the barracks, noticing Birmingham and Boynton sitting at the table together.  The Major stood quickly, came to attention and saluted. "At ease, Major," said Hogan returning the salute.  
  
"Yes, sir," replied the Major as he returned to parade rest with his hands behind his back, legs spread slightly apart.  
  
"I meant, relax, Major.  Let's go on into my quarters.  This was meant as a casual conversation," Hogan said.  
  
"Of course, sir," said the Major following Hogan into the small room off the main barracks.  
  
"Have a seat, Major," Hogan said gesturing toward the bottom bunk as he sat on the stool by the desk. "How are your men doing, Major?  Any problems or concerns?" he asked trying to ignore that the Major was still at attention even though he was sitting.  
  
"No, sir, everything is fine.  Most of the men are still a little shell-shocked to find themselves with the freedom they have here," replied the Major. "Some of us have been POWs for a long time, sir. It's a little disconcerting to suddenly find yourself without the fear of retribution." The Major sighed and then continued, "I guess that sounds fairly cowardly, sir.  I apologize."  
  
"No apology necessary, Major.  My men and I have been POWs for three years. I understand your fears. We had just been lucky enough to end up in a camp where the Kommandant and Sergeant of the Guard were not cut out of the Nazi mold. Their neutrality helped us start our operation here," Hogan replied.  
  
"It's quite the operation, sir," Boynton said.  "Though it appears from your injuries, that the take over of this Stalag was not without cost?"  
  
"Actually, the takeover went very well.  No one was injured.  My injuries are from an altercation with the Gestapo three weeks ago," Hogan replied still not wanting to discuss the entire truth about that evening, but if it made Boynton feel more comfortable he was willing to answer some questions.  
  
"I'm sorry, sir.  I didn't mean to pry," Boynton said having seen the closed look appear on Hogan's face.  If the man's face still looked like it did after three weeks, he wouldn't ask any more questions.  He had seen enough men after altercations with the Gestapo to know what Hogan had been through.  
  
"It's quite all right, Major," said Hogan evenly, but then quickly changed the subject.  "There was something else I needed to talk to you about."   
  
"Sir?" asked Boynton.   
  
"I need to make a decision as to the disposition of the German prisoners being held in this camp. I have three men in the cooler, two of whom, I plan on turning over to the liberation forces, to face charges of war crimes. The last man there is your Major Kalb. I need you to give me an honest assessment of his treatment of POWs. I would also like to know what you can tell me about the 25 guards that were there with you at Camp 19," Hogan said evenly, hoping that he wouldn't hear anything horrendous, but he noticed the Major's demeanor change when he had mentioned Major Kalb.  It was making him steel himself for something he didn't want to hear.  
  
"Colonel Hogan.  I will attempt to give you a fair assessment.  But to be honest, if you took Major Kalb and his goons out and blew them all away, I wouldn't be that upset, sir."  Boynton paused and took a deep breath. "Camp 19 was made up of prisoners from two separate camps. The men with me were trucked to Camp 19.  We had no problems.  The men from the other camp were made to march almost continuously for five days, before they arrived at Camp 19.  Major Kalb and his goons arrived with them.  During those five days, rations were withheld, and the men were only given four hours of sleep and hardly any rest periods. I was told that at the end of each day, Major Kalb and his men would roundup any of the POWs that appeared to be faltering, restrain them, and then line them up for the other POWs to see. Those Bastards would use the POWs as target practice, sir.  The POWs never knew what was going to happen, either the guards would fire madly and death would be quick or the guards would fire random shots and death would never seem to come."    
  
Major Boynton fell silent and sighed. "The final tally was 32 dead, sir."  
  
"I'm sorry, Major," said Hogan. _32 dead_.  "But that gives me the answers I was looking for." Hogan paused and then said, "Major.  If your men need anything, just let me know.  The only consolation I can offer is that we're closing in on the end of this bloody war.  I promise you, Major.  That I'll do my best to see that every Allied POW in this camp makes it back to London safely."  
  
"Thank you, sir," said the Major coming to attention and saluting.   
  
Hogan didn't return the salute, but instead offered his hand to the Major. "Like I said, Major Boynton.  I'll do the best I can."  
  
Boynton at first just stared at the proffered hand.  After a minute, he grasped the Colonel's hand firmly. "Thank you, sir.  I know you will." He turned on his heel and left.   
  
Hogan paused to give Boynton some time to leave the barracks and then he headed out of his office, but his anger started to reach a crescendo. _Now I think I'll go talk to that bastard Major Kalb.  
_  
General Birmingham was still sitting there when Hogan entered the main barracks. "How did that go, Rob?" Kyle asked noticing that Hogan was livid. _He probably won't even talk to me.  We haven't seen eye to eye since I got here and after that little altercation the other night…  
_  
"Not good, Kyle. Not good at all. I now have 26 more Germans that I need to charge with war crimes. No, make that 25.  Because one of them is never going to make it to his trial, if I have anything to do with it," Hogan said flatly heading for the barrack's door. "If anyone's looking for me, I'll be 'interviewing' the Kommandant of Camp 19, Major Kalb."  
  
"Whoa.  Hey, Rob," Kyle said, jumping up, and trying to beat Hogan to the door.  He managed to step in front of Hogan and block his exit.  "Maybe you should hold off on that 'interview' for a little while," Kyle said seeing himself in Hogan for the first time.  He didn't like what he saw. Hogan looked angry enough to carry through with his threat.  
  
"Get out of my way, Kyle," said Hogan angrily and quite ready to grab Kyle and push him aside again.   
  
"Not this time, Rob.  Let's go into your office.  You need to calm down before you go anywhere," said Kyle. "Come on Rob.  Listen to me for once.  You've been on edge lately.  Let's go talk before you explode and do something you'll regret," said Kyle standing his ground.   
  
Hogan was breathing heavy and his eyes were showing rage, but he finally settled down. "Maybe you are right Kyle," Hogan said quickly turning to head back to his office.  
  
As the General closed the door behind him he asked of the man's back, "So, are you going to tell me what's going on? You've been wound so tight the past couple of days.  I'm worried about you," Kyle said sympathetically.  
  
Hogan turned to Kyle and said, "Damn it, Kyle.  Kalb made half those men from Camp 19 march for five days without rations or rest. His guards would execute any stragglers who couldn't keep up! On a daily basis!"  
  
_Oh my God._ "And you were going to what when you talked to him?  Kill him?  Huh?" asked Kyle, not used to being the voice of reason when he talked to Hogan.  Even in their days together as pilots, Hogan was always the more reasonable one.  "And don't tell me, that his actions are the only thing that has got you distraught.  Something else must have happened.  What was it?" asked Kyle.  
  
Hogan just stared at Kyle for a long moment and then sat heavily on his bunk. "What was it?  Maybe it was that two of my men almost got themselves killed this morning?  Or was it that I was attacked and spit on by the Reischsmarschall?  Or maybe that I was almost killed by an angry mob," Hogan said sarcastically. "Then hearing about this bastard Kalb and his goon squad.  What do you think, Kyle?  Is that enough maybe?" asked Hogan pointedly trying to get the upper hand, so he wouldn't have to tell Kyle about the American atrocities as well.   
  
"Okay whoa now," said Kyle. "I get it.  You've had a bad day.  You, of course, realize that that is not an excuse to take out Major Kalb.  Right?" Kyle asked, wanting desperately to say something to break the tension.  An idea struck, and he glared at Hogan suspiciously.  "Look what you've done to me, Rob!" he accused.  "I'm starting to talk like you! You are usually the sane one.  I'm usually the one to fly off the handle."   
  
Hogan relaxed suddenly. "My God.  You're right, Kyle!  I can't let myself be dragged farther into your abyss!" he smirked, looking directly at Kyle, with most of the tension between them dropping away. "Thanks, Kyle.  You saved me from myself," Hogan said quietly.   
  
"You're welcome.  So are you going to tell me what it was that set you off?" asked Kyle.   
  
"Get out of my office, Kyle," Hogan said evenly.   
  
"So, there is something else.  Give it up, Rob.  I am not leaving until I know.  Especially, since it sent you over the edge, it probably isn't going to be good for the men here.  Right?" asked Kyle.  
  
Hogan paused and gave Kyle a look of defiance, but knew that he needed to explain this situation. "All right, General.  I was going to talk to everyone tomorrow.  You have to realize that my mind is made up here.  So what I'm going to tell you will happen.  Nothing is going to make me change my mind.  Do we have an understanding?" Hogan asked deadly serious.  
  
"Colonel.  I will agree to nothing until you explain to me what's going on," Birmingham said just as serious.   
  
Hogan looked at Kyle directly. "Goering, Burkhalter and his man, along with Kalb and his men, will be handed over to the Allied forces as planned.  I will level the charges against them myself.  But, I plan to release the Germans that were stationed here at Stalag 13, including the Kommandant and Sergeant of the Guard, before the Allied forces arrive."  
  
"You can't do that, Hogan!  It's against every rule in the book," protested Birmingham.  
  
"So is letting 127 German POWs die in a sealed railcar. So is executing every German soldier in a concentration camp after they surrendered," said Hogan evenly. "Forget the Nazi atrocities General, the Americans are working on their own." Hogan paused and saw Kyle's facial expression change. Hogan asked accusingly, "Did you know about these things, Kyle?"  
  
"I had heard the reports, Rob," responded Kyle quietly.   
  
"Damn it, Kyle.  We are supposed to be the good guys, the ones standing up for what is right.  How can anyone trust us, if we are doing the same things as those we are fighting against?" asked Hogan. "I will not allow even the remote chance that any such atrocity will happen to my POWs. The guards at Stalag 13 are just young boys or old men. You've seen them by now. They aren't soldiers. They were all assigned to the easiest posting, here at Stalag 13, where there had never been a successful escape. Their naivety was the only thing keeping us in business. I won't see them all massacred."  
  
"Rob.  I'm sure those were isolated incidents.  It won't happen again," Kyle said.  
  
"Now you are being naïve, General. This war was full of people who believed 'it won't happen'," Hogan said quietly.   
  
"Rob.  War is hell and bad things happen.  I know we've never seen eye-to-eye.  But you've changed.  I just don't understand you anymore," Kyle said softly.  
  
Kyle watched as Hogan stood and went to his open window, and looked out quietly for a long moment.  To Kyle's mind, Hogan looked as if he was dredging up some long ago memory, one that had been carefully suppressed.   
  
Hogan turned back to Kyle, distressed. "Listen, Kyle.  Just be glad that you never will understand what it means to be a POW." Hogan paused trying to find the right words to convince Kyle that what he was going to do was the right thing to do.  "When I was first captured, that night in Hamburg, we were thrown onto a train and never told where we were heading. They had jammed as many men as possible into the railcars. We were locked in for four days without rations. Not everyone on the train survived.  I happened to be the only officer on my railcar. The men were all looking to me for guidance.  I could only stare into their frightened faces.  I tried to keep everyone calm, but since I was just as frightened as they were, it didn't do much good."   
  
Hogan paused again, as those long ago fears came rushing to the surface. "Damn it. To think of all those people being entombed in that railcar..." He paused shaking his head. "It brought it way too close to home, Kyle.  It could have just as easily been those men and me.  I will not take the chance of that happening to the men stationed here at Stalag 13." Hogan stopped his explanation, turned away, and went to the window again.  
  
Kyle had listened quietly to Hogan's story.  And he had watched, as Hogan was barely able to contain the fear that those long ago memories invoked. "Rob.  I don't know what to say.  I can't fathom the feeling you've described. But you survived it and then you created this whole operation soon after you arrived. London has been very impressed with Papa Bear's abilities.  Since my arrival here, I have been amazed at what you've been able to accomplish. Things appear to have gone well for you here."  
  
Hogan turned back to Birmingham. "You just don't get it, Kyle. Do you?" Hogan accused. "So. You think we've had a cakewalk here.  You have to realize that we could never be anything but prisoners.  We had no choice.  Any extra supplies were only for the 'moving' prisoners. You've been here for a few days.  You've seen the conditions, the lice, the fleas, and the rats.  Not to mention the food.  And Stalag 13 is better than all the other POW camps out there. But keep in mind, that all POW camps combined are still better than any of the other types of camps, be it labor or concentration camps."  
  
Hogan pointed a finger at directly at Birmingham. "But still, you try keeping 2000 men healthy and sane in a place like this before you pass judgment.  Between the sheer boredom of long hours with nothing to do and the sheer terror that at any moment the SS or Gestapo would label you unnecessary, life here was not easy. There were food shortages, and if we were lucky we had hot water once a week. Mostly we struggled to stay clean with cold water and home made soap."  
  
Hogan paused and looked at the floor. "Then there were the illnesses. There were many a bought of dysentery, which caused some major weight loss for men who couldn't afford it. I would have to negotiate for additional food for them. In the leanest times, generally we all took turns giving up a few meals, so the sick could eat. I also almost lost over 200 guys to pneumonia one winter. They had to be quarantined and separated from the rest of us. There wasn't much medication to be found. Kommandant Klink did the best he could, trying to find some. The only thing that saved us was being able to contact London. Other than that I'd have probably lost one third of this camp to illness alone, over the past three years."  
  
Hogan looked up directly at the General.  "Kyle.  My men and I have been teetering on the edge of an abyss ever since we arrived. There was never anything easy about it. We had some control over events within camp, only because Klink allowed it.  But at any time an outside force could have shattered our little world. And in terms of our 'operation', it was an all or nothing proposition.  We learned as we went along, no one here was trained for this type of duty. Either the job was done right, or we were all dead men. There was never any middle ground," said Hogan. "We'd been lucky, very lucky until..." Hogan's voice faltered, indicating that something was left unsaid.  
  
"Until?" asked Kyle, having noticed that Hogan deliberately stopped his explanation.  
  
"Until everything almost came to a crashing halt, three weeks ago," Hogan said sighing.  
  
"Was that when you had that 'conversation' with the Gestapo Major?" asked Kyle.  
  
"Yeah.  The Gestapo Major and I had long been acquaintances. He knew I was the Senior POW Officer here at Stalag 13.  The Major had always suspected me of being a spy and a saboteur.  We had, up until then, been able to keep a few steps ahead of him."    
  
Hogan paused, trying to summarize the worst night of his life. "Two others and I had gone to meet with the underground.  It was to be our last meeting before the final plans were to go into effect.  Fortunately, the civilian members of the underground had already left. My men and I were waiting a few minutes to let them get in the clear before leaving. Unfortunately for us, the Gestapo had gotten wind of our gathering and stormed the meeting place. I took a bullet during our retreat.  My men brought me back here to do what we always did… confuse the issue. I had hoped the Major hadn't gotten a good look at me, but that wasn't to be.  It did take the Major a little time, but he finally put two and two together."  
  
"Why didn't you just…" Kyle asked being interrupted by Hogan's lethal stare.  
  
"Run?" Hogan asked appalled. "Kyle.  Is that what you're asking me?  Why didn't I run?"   
  
Kyle didn't respond.  He'd almost said the wrong thing again.   
  
Hogan continued coldly, "The life of every man in this camp would have been forfeit.  As the saying goes, there had never been a successful escape from Stalag 13.  We were POWs, not saboteurs.  It was our best cover story. We'd always been able to throw the Krauts off the track by being back in camp almost before anything happened.  The Gestapo had, up until that point, never been able to prove anything.  Even when they did suspect something, I'd always been able to double-talk my way out of most encounters.  This time though, the bullet wound was a little obvious and the Major had been looking right at me, when I was hit. I could only hope that I could convince him and Kommandant Klink that I had only escaped and not admit to underground activities." Hogan paused and looked away from Kyle.   
  
Kyle wasn't sure what to say. He noticed Hogan trying to give him an unemotional account of that evening. And it wasn't working.  Kyle decided not to respond and let Hogan continue at his own pace.  
  
Hogan turned back and continued, "So after we returned to camp, all we could do was wait.  My men understood, explicitly, that if something should happen to me, they were to continue with the final missions. They were ready. They could handle it without me." _Or you._ "The Major and his goons showed up about two hours after we had made it back to camp. They worked me over good, to the point where I had been lapsing in and out of consciousness. I wasn't even sure of the things I might have said to them. The last thing I remember was the Major saying he had no more use for me. That's when I felt the muzzle of his revolver being pressed to my head."   
  
Kyle noticed a shiver of dread from Hogan as he described the encounter.  _Obviously it must have been a bluff.  Hogan is still alive._ Kyle remained silent waiting for Hogan to continue.  
  
Hogan said, "The gun went off."  
  
_Oh God,_ thought Kyle.  
  
"I'm only alive today, because Kommandant Klink had relieved the Gestapo Major of his weapon as it discharged.  Klink then forced him to leave, by telling the Major, that he hadn't proven my involvement in the underground, and that that only made me an escaped prisoner, under his jurisdiction.  That's when I passed out.  I was unconsciousness for the better part of three days.  Kommandant Klink had called for a doctor, and allowed me to recover in his quarters. He never pursued any further action against my men or me for escaping."   
  
Hogan again paused. "You see Kyle, as a POW camp Kommandant, Klink didn't have to interfere with the interrogation. The standard punishment in most POW camps for being an escaped prisoner was death.  Klink chose to stop it.  He confided in me after the takeover that he was worried that the Major's next step would be to take out his wrath on the rest of the POWs in camp. He said he couldn't let that happen. I owe him one, Kyle, not only for my life, but also for those of my men. I promised him that I would keep both him and his men safe.  I intend to do just that.  End of story."  
  
Kyle was quiet for a long time.  "All right.  So say I agree with you.  How can you legitimately make the decision to send some of the Germans with the Allied troops and others not?" asked Kyle.  
  
"Like I said before, Kyle… no one here at Stalag 13 is remotely guilty of war crimes. They just happened to be living in the wrong country when the war started.  They were doing what they had to, to survive.  As to the others, they spent most of this war inflicting pain, suffering and death on innocent victims," Hogan said quietly. "I will not trust the Allied forces with them either. I was going to ask for volunteers who could make sure those men arrived at their destination safely."  
  
"Rob.  I will stand behind your decision. I'm out of my depth here. It was easier for me to think of all Germans as vicious predators. You know.  Everything black and white.  The good guys versus the bad guys. You've made me see all the shades of gray.  I now understand what a heavy burden this has been for you.  I just never had to think about it this way before."   
  
Kyle became quiet, lost in thought. "You realize that the only way to guarantee the safety of the Germans being turned over, would be the intimidation factor. You can't send a bunch of Privates and Corporals to stand against the commander of the Allied force."  
  
"What do you have in mind, Kyle?" asked Hogan.  
  
Kyle came to attention, actually saluted and said, "Sir.  I volunteer to see those prisoners to their final destination safely."  
  
Hogan didn't return the salute; instead he took hold of Kyle's shoulder and said, "Thanks, Kyle.  But, I want you to look me in the eye and promise me you will keep them safe."  
  
Kyle finished the salute, and then smirked sarcastically saying, "You don't trust me?"  But before Hogan responded, Kyle reached out to shake Hogan's hand and looked Hogan straight in the eye saying, "I promise. I will do whatever I need to, to get those prisoners to their final destination safely."  
  
Hogan reached out and took Kyle's hand. "I appreciate your help, Kyle. It's important to me that there is no mess up.  Once they get to where they are going, it's up to the War Crimes Commission to decide their fate.  But until that time, those men are my responsibility."  
  
Kyle said, "I do understand, Rob.  You don't have to worry. Honestly."  Kyle noticed Hogan visibly relax. He knew Rob had been extremely tense, but was amazed to see the extent. Hogan looked as if he might pass out as he sat heavily on his bunk.  
  
"Good. Now all I have to do is get 2000+ other people to agree that I'm doing the right thing," Hogan said sighing heavily. He sat quietly for a minute. Kyle could see the 'command' mask slip back into place.  Hogan then said, "I do need to talk to Major Kalb. I might as well do that now."  He rose and headed for the door.  Glancing back at Kyle he asked, "Coming?"  
  
Kyle looked surprised. "Why?  Are you afraid you need a backup?"  
  
Hogan replied, "No.  But when or if Major Kalb gives me any grief.  I want to make sure he knows how lucky he was that there was someone else in the room with me."  
  
"Okay.  I get it… good cop/bad cop. By all means… Let's go," Kyle responded.   
  
Both men exited Hogan's quarters and headed for the cooler.  
  
**Later that Evening,  
Luft Stalag 13, Colonel Hogan's Quarters,   
April 21, 1945, 2100 Hours  
**  
The doctor had just left after seeing the Colonel to bed.  The new schedule for Hogan's medications was for 0900 Hours and 2100 Hours. Hogan was glad that he could actually try sleeping through the night.  Not that he was really going to sleep the whole time, but at least he knew he didn't have to be awake at a specific time.    
  
**_So for now, Hogan just laid in bed, revisiting the last few hours in his head…  
_**  
He and Kyle had gone to see Major Kalb.  The procedure was the same now for all prisoners. The guards entered first, followed shortly after by the Colonel and in this case, the General.  To their surprise… the Major had been horrified, almost hysterical, when they entered his cell. His body was racked with fear. He trembled uncontrollably. By the time Hogan and Birmingham completed their entrance, the Major had urinated and defecated himself.  Hogan had given him a look of revulsion and repeated the standard "prisoner" speech.   
  
As both officers started to leave, the Major collapsed and began throwing up uncontrollably.  _A cesspool of human waste._  Disgusted, Hogan had ordered his men to take Kalb to the delousing station, make him strip, hose him down and get him some clean clothes.  He also told them that Kalb would alone, be the one to clean up his cell. _Goddam pathetic bastard can dish it out, but can't take it._  Hogan then had left the cell followed closely by Birmingham.  
  
Hogan had also touched base with Kinch, Newkirk, Carter and LeBeau. He had asked Kinch to re-arrange the meeting scheduled for 0900 Hours tomorrow. It was to have been about the food rationing and camp morale. But the camp dynamics may change after he announced his plans for the Stalag 13 guards. Newkirk, Carter, and LeBeau had finished the inventory of the food supplies. There was enough food for one month's time, if the present two meals a day rationing went unaltered. They also checked into the supplies needed to release the guards. Everything was in order.  It would take 24 hours to 'move' all 62 men.   
  
All Hogan had to do now was convince the civilians, as well as his men, that the Stalag 13 officers should be allowed to go free. He would talk to each group separately in the morning, instead of having the camp meeting.  Once he made it clear to them, he would tell Kommandant Kink and Schultz. He could be virtually ready to release the men by the noon roll call tomorrow. That way his men could easily separate the Stalag 13 guards from the Camp 19 guards as the Camp 19 guards were captured together and assigned roll call positions together.   
  
**_Kyle entered the office interrupting Hogan's thoughts....   
_**  
He hauled himself to the upper bunk and said, "I'm going to try and get some shut eye before you.  You snore too much."  With that he turned toward the wall and was asleep almost immediately.  
  
"Good night to you too," said Hogan sarcastically, leaning his head back and closing his eyes, hoping sleep would come soon.  It did come, maybe not as soon as he would have liked. But sleep did come.  
  
**Luft Stalag 13, Barracks Two,   
April 22, 1945, 0500 Hours  
  
**Hogan had slept until he heard others in the barracks moving around. He looked at his watch. _0430 Hours._  He got up, turned the light on, and noticed that Kyle was already gone. _Amazing, everyone's up early._ He dressed quickly and entered the main barracks.  As he opened his door, the men in Barracks Two cheered. _What the hell's going on?_    
  
Kinch came forward with a hand written note.    
  
Hogan took the proffered note and read it aloud, "April 22, 1945.  0230 Hours.  Berlin has fallen. The Allied forces have complete control of the Capital.  Hitler has gone into hiding.  Other officers flee country.  The end is in sight." Hogan stared for a long moment at the note in his hand.  When he looked up, all his men were grinning from ear to ear. Hogan smiled back, but not a full grin. One that said there is still too much war left to celebrate. "Does the rest of the camp know?" he asked quietly.  
  
Kinch replied earnestly, "No, sir.  I just couldn't keep it a secret from the guys in this barracks."   
  
"Okay, Kinch. Thanks.  I will announce this after roll call.  Have the civilians assemble for this news.  Pass the word that the men should stay in formation.  Then, could you round up the team leaders for me? After I talk to them, I will need to speak to the civilian leaders too," ordered Hogan all business.  
  
"Yes, sir," Kinch replied.  He had hoped the Colonel would be excited about the news, but his reaction was one of trepidation.  Kinch understood Hogan's frame of mind.  _So many things could still go wrong. The Colonel is just not willing to let his guard down.  
_  
"I'm going to tell Kommandant Klink and Schultz this news now.  I don't want to add insult to injury when I announce it after roll call. I want to give them the chance to walk away, instead of getting inundated with the men's reaction."   
  
**_Hogan then left Barracks Two, heading to Klink's quarters…  
_**  
"Kommandant Klink," Hogan called as he entered the Kommandant's quarters, not immediately seeing the German Colonel. Although he nodded acknowledging Schultz who was sitting at the table.    
  
Klink entered from the bedroom, not completely dressed yet.  "What is it Colonel?" asked Klink noticing Hogan looked rather uncomfortable.  
  
"Kommandant Wilhelm Klink.  Sergeant Hans Schultz," Hogan began formally.  "I wanted to let you know that I have gotten official confirmation of the fall of Berlin. As of 0230 Hours this morning, Allied forces had gained complete control of the Capital. Hitler has gone into hiding and many others on his staff have disappeared."  Hogan paused taking a deep breath.  "I wanted you both to know before roll call, as I plan on telling my men before we break the assembly.  I won't require either of you to stay during the announcement. You may return here to your quarters."  
  
"Thank you, Colonel Hogan.  Your consideration of our feelings is most appreciated, but this was not unexpected news.  Our country will have many atrocities to answer for."  Klink paused and took a deep breath.  "Though it's still disheartening to realize that the country you've known all your life, whether it was good, bad or indifferent will no longer exist in its present state."  Klink glanced at Schultz with an unspoken question.   
  
Schultz nodded.   
  
"Colonel. We will both stay during your announcement. Your men have the right to celebrate.  Even at our expense. We both, Schultz and I, feel that it's about time that we stop hiding from this war.  We need to face the consequences our actions -- and our inactions.  The most appropriate place to start would be here with your men."  
  
"As you wish, gentlemen," Hogan said as he turned and left.  _Incredible_.  His respect for the two men was steadily growing.  He would never have thought they could handle this just a month ago. Now he was amazed.  When all the leaders of their country were running, the two least likely soldiers were standing their ground, regardless of their fate.  
  
By the time he reached the compound the men were starting to assemble.  He heard the 'raus, 'raus of the guards and walked over and took his place in line.  The camp assembled quickly. It seemed that Kinch's warning about staying in formation had them all curious.  Klink and Schultz arrived and quickly went through their paces.  As Klink finished receiving his report, Schultz returned to his side. Both men stood at attention facing the assembled POWs, their faces unreadable.  Hogan was impressed again. There was always the chance that this situation could turn bad for the two men. They will be standing virtually unprotected in the compound. Hogan hoped his men wouldn't turn against them.   
  
Hogan stepped forward, almost to where Klink and Schultz were standing, trying to be a buffer zone between his men the two Germans.  He turned and faced his men.  His announcement brought about a number of reactions. The most obvious reaction was the cheering, the hooting and hollering, and slapping each other on the back.  Some of the men were very quiet, almost like they couldn't believe the news.  Some made distasteful gestures and yelled obscenities in the direction of the Germans.  Hogan was going to let it play out till its natural conclusion, unless something forced his hand.  He didn't see the mob mentality again, and was glad.  After a number of minutes, the POWs gradually noticed that their commanding officer wasn't sharing in the revelry. They slowly re-assembled and became quiet.   
  
**_Once control was re-established…  
_**  
Hogan began, "Gentleman.  I want you to realize that even though that news was something we've all been waiting a long time for. We still have work to do here. This war is far from over. I don't want anyone to underestimate the danger that is still looming. Dismissed."  Hogan turned to face Klink and Schultz. Saluting he said, "Dismissed."   
  
Klink and Schultz returned the salute and headed to their quarters.  
  
Hogan spent the next three hours talking with his staff, the barrack's leaders, Major Boynton, as well as the leaders of the German civilians.  He informed them of his decision to release the Stalag 13 POWs, as well as his decision to turn over the Camp 19 guards and their guests in the cooler to the American forces, with a security escort.  He explained the recent atrocities committed by the American forces. He told of his desire to avoid any chance at all, that his Stalag 13 POWs would be subjected to anything similar.   
  
They all seemed to understand Hogan's desire to protect the Germans of Stalag 13.  Many of the POWs had been moved via railcar when first captured.  All could imagine what it would have been like to die as those 127 German POWs had.  Hogan made it clear, that once the POWs were released, he would give them the option of staying or leaving. If anyone chose to stay, they would be housed with German civilians and supplied with the proper clothes and identity papers. Those that chose to leave would do so via the long-standing process. They would get clothes, identity papers, food, and maps. But, they would be on their own to do and go where they wished.   
  
All in all it had gone much better than expected.  Hogan had left it up to the barrack's leaders and the civilian leaders to inform their people on what he planned to do.  He had ordered that they should inform him, by 1000 Hours, of any person who was not willing to go along with his decision.  Hogan needed to quell any dissention in his own ranks before he spoke with both Klink and Schultz.  He wanted to separate the Stalag 13 German POWs, from the Camp 19 POWs at the noon roll call.  
  
Hogan had returned to his barracks to wait on the reports.  Doc Freiling had followed quietly from the meeting, as it was time for the Colonel's morning check up. As they entered Hogan's quarters, Hogan turned to face the doctor and said,  "Do you think I'm doing the right thing, Doc?"  
  
The doctor was taken aback, as he wasn't ready for the Colonel's question. Hogan hardly ever questioned his own decisions. "You are doing what you feel is necessary.  Not everyone will agree, but we've given our word to you that we will follow your decision."  
  
"Thanks, Doc," said Hogan.  
  
The doctor's exam was quick this morning. He administered the medication, and checked the Colonel's vision. Nothing had changed with his vision, but Hogan noticed that the doctor had given up on the pain tolerance maneuvers. _Thank God._  When the doctor finished, both men exited his quarters.   
  
As expected, Hogan saw a number of the barracks leaders all ready with their reports.  "Gentleman. Why don't we start with the bad news, first?  Is there anyone who will make trouble?"    
  
No one answered.   
  
"Good.  That's what I needed to know. I'll wait here for the rest of the reports. As soon as I get the all clear, I'll talk to Klink and Schultz. Then I will want the guards separated.  Newkirk, I need you to be in charge of the German POWs.  I don't trust the Camp 19 German POWs.  Take whatever precautions you need. Once the guards are separated, Kommandant Klink and myself will address Stalag 13 guards. Have them fall in, in front of the Kommandant's office."  
  
"Yes, sir," said Newkirk.  
  
Hogan then sat with a cup of coffee, waiting on the last reports from the different barracks leaders and civilians. Finally, he looked at his watch…1010 Hours. The only report outstanding was that of Major Boynton and his men. Everyone else had agreed to go with Hogan's decision. He rose and headed for the door, not real happy that he would have to look for Major Boynton.   
  
But he never made it to the door.    
  
Boynton came rushing headlong into the barracks, almost crashing into Hogan. "I'm sorry, sir.  I had a little difficulty with my men, sir," Boynton said out of breath and trying to come to attention. "Everything is fine now, sir.  My men will stand by your decision, sir."  He managed to finally compose himself and salute.  
  
Hogan returned the salute asking, "Are you sure, Major?"  He took a hard look at the Major's face. It appeared that the Major was going to have quite the shiner by the next morning.   
  
"Yes, sir, Colonel Hogan. Everything will be fine," replied Boynton resolutely, hoping the Colonel didn't call him on the soon-to-be black eye.  It was an already resolved issue, between he and his men.  
  
"Thank you, Major.  Dismissed," said Hogan. _Good man._ Hogan was very glad that Boynton was willing to do all the hard work for him.  He had no reason to distrust the Major.  If any group was to give Hogan grief about the German POW release, he had expected it to be the Camp 19 Allied POWs.  _But that appears to be a moot issue now.  I wonder what the other guy looks like?   
_  
"Yes, sir," said Boynton starting to leave.  He could now better understand the loyalty that Hogan's men show for him.  _The man knew which lines to cross and which ones not to cross.  You can't say that of too many officers._   
  
Hogan spoke to the men left in the barracks. "Wait for my orders, gentlemen. We now have time before the noon roll call. I'll be with Kommandant Klink and Sergeant Schultz."  He headed out the door, glancing across the compound.  _Business as usual. Good.  
_  
He entered the Kommandant's quarters to find Klink and Schultz at the table talking. "Excuse me, gentleman. I need to talk to you both about something important." Hogan indicated that they should probably make themselves more comfortable on the living room furniture.    
  
All three men moved to the living area.  
  
"What is it that you want to talk about, Colonel?" asked Klink as he sat in the armchair.  
  
"Well gentlemen.  I have what I hope will be good news for you and the other Stalag 13 personnel.  As of today, I will be releasing you and your men.  This offer is not being extended to any non-Stalag 13 personnel. The rest of the German POWs in camp will all be turned over to the Allied liberation forces and charged with war crimes. For any of your men who choose to leave, there will be no repercussions.  But they will leave here as German civilians.  It will be safer for everyone.  My men and I will supply all the necessary clothes, identity papers, money, maps and food to start your people on their way.  The best estimate I have is that all 62 of you can be processed and moved out of camp in the next 24 hours.  I will also offer this camp as a refuge for any of your men, who do not want to leave, but they will need to continue to sit out this war as German civilians.  They will be quartered with the other civilians.  So.  What do you say gentlemen?" asked Hogan.  
  
Klink and Schultz were dumfounded. Klink looked at Hogan askance. Hogan appeared to be enjoying their surprise.  "This has to be a cruel joke, Hogan.  You can't be serious. This is against all the rules of engagement.  What could you possibly gain from releasing us? -- Of course -- Shot while escaping -- That's it, isn't it, Hogan? To ease that food shortage we discussed. I thought I could trust you," demanded Klink getting up and walking away from Hogan.  
  
"Colonel.  You can trust me.  You have to trust me.  This is the only way I can keep my word to you.  If you and your men are still in this camp dressed as members of the German military when the liberating forces arrive, I can not guarantee your safety," Hogan replied earnestly and followed the Colonel across the room.  
  
Klink turned to find Hogan right behind him. "Why, Hogan?" Klink protested surprised.  "Explain to me why!"   
  
Hogan looked right into Klink's eyes.  "You have to know that the liberating force that will arrive here is going to be American.  Sadly, I have to confess that the American forces have failed miserably in their treatment of German POWs."  Hogan sighed.  "There have been two recent incidents that I know of.  The first was where 127 German POWs died in a sealed railcar of asphyxiation and heat exhaustion.  The second was after the liberation of a concentration camp in Northern Germany.  All the German military personnel stationed there were executed. And this was after they had surrendered.  I do not want a repeat performance of either incident for the personnel stationed at Stalag 13," Hogan told them.  
  
Klink continued to hold Hogan's gaze. This was not the meek Kommandant of old, but a man standing at the crossroads.  "Hogan.  The men that I have assigned here are old men and young boys.  They are of no possible danger to anyone.  As I'm sure you realize."  Klink paused. "Can I really trust you, Hogan?"  
  
"How can I make you believe me?"  Hogan asked.  "Look, Colonel.  I've told you everything that is going on around us.  There is nothing else I can tell you. Your men do not have to leave this camp, but they do have to give up their military identities. If you work with me, every one of your men will be identifiable only as civilians. They will be safer that way. This goes for you and Schultz too," Hogan stated determinedly.  
  
Klink sighed, hoping that he could really trust the American Colonel. "All right, Hogan.  For the sake of my men, I will agree to your terms.  But I will not run from this, Hogan.  Much as I regret it now," Klink said. "I am a member of the German military."    
  
Schultz stood and came forward to where both men were. "I will not run either.  I will stand with Kommandant Klink as a member of the German military."  
  
"Thank you, Schultz," said Klink. "What is our next step, Colonel Hogan?"  
  
Hogan sighed.  _I need to convince these two men that they are really in danger, but at least we can start processing the rest of the men first._  "We need to separate your men from the Camp 19 guards. Your men will be made to assemble in front of your office.  You and I will let them know what's happening. Once that's accomplished, my men are very proficient in the "movement" of POWs. Your men will be brought into the tunnels and the process will begin. They will have the time they need to choose whether to stay or go. We will not push either way, but everyone will be assigned a civilian identity," explained Hogan.  
  
"Very well Hogan," said Colonel Klink with a questioning look. _Tunnels?_ "Did I hear you say that you could 'process' 62 men in 24 hours?"  Meaning that you what?  Change their identities, their clothes. And you 'move' them? Where?"  
  
Hogan gave the Colonel a look of culpability. "I guess, Colonel Klink, this is where I get brutally honest with you. I've already told you that I am the leader of the underground in this area. I gained complete control of the existing underground within six months of my arrival. From that point on, the underground would only sabotage the targets my men and I approved. Our headquarters in London assigned a lot of targets, but I had full authority to do anything I deemed necessary.  We were charged with putting a monkey wrench into any plans the German government might have had in using this area as a military stronghold.  I'm not proud of everything I've done, too many innocent lives were lost, but we did accomplish what we set out to do."    
  
Hogan paused and looked away from Klink and Schultz.  When he returned his gaze, he continued, "What I hadn't yet told you of our operation was actually the most important part.  It's also the only part that I can legitimately say I'm proud of.  I'm sorry, but you need to know that we've been using Stalag 13 as a 'transfer' station.  We've moved, 'processed' if you will, hundreds and hundreds of Allied soldiers, as well as any other 'lost sheep' we ran across. We were charged with getting all these people out of Germany and back to London.  I'm sorry, but again to be brutally honest, Colonel.  All the Allied POWs here in Stalag 13 are volunteers.  To insure the safety of our operation, none of us were allowed to escape.  We couldn't bring unwanted attention to Stalag 13.  Our duty was to stay put and move as many people as we could."   
  
Hogan paused; sure that Klink wouldn't take this well. "Hence 'there has never been a successful escape from Stalag 13' was true only because I never allowed it. My men and I choreographed all of the 'unsuccessful' escape attempts. They were all meant as distractions for one mission or another," Hogan said.  
  
Hogan was unsure of whether telling Klink the truth was the right thing to do. The man certainly now had enough reasons not to trust him. But honesty is now the only thing he had to offer the Kommandant. "I will show you our operation here.  You and your men will be safe, if you can bring yourself to trust me. -- Colonel, you said it yourself; your men stationed here are of no danger to anyone.  I cannot see myself handing them over to what I consider an unsecured situation.  Neither you nor your men deserve that." More brutal honesty. "I'm sorry, Colonel, but whether you want to know this or not." Hogan paused.  
  
_How do you tell someone that unbeknownst to them, they've been aiding and abetting the enemy?    
_  
"My men and I owe a lot of our success to you and your men.  Your neutrality was what allowed us to be in business. -- I am very sorry, Colonel. -- I had never expected that I would have to tell you any of this.  I can't imagine what you must think of my men and me.  I'm just trying to be honest with you.  I truly want to give your men any chance I can.  Please don't let your feelings toward me, blind you to the safety of your men," Hogan pleaded.  "Please don't."    
  
Klink had stood quietly during Hogan's description of his 'operation.'  He then turned and walked away from the American Colonel.  _How could I have been so blind?_  Thinking back now, he remembered all the crazy stunts Hogan and his men pulled.  Klink had always thought that Hogan was just playing the fool to maintain some semblance of control within the camp.  He now realized how ineffectual he had been as a Kommandant.  Hogan and his men had played him for a fool for over three years. _Should that really surprise me? I admittedly kept my head in the sand, so as not to be too involved.  Hogan was just the right man to take advantage of that. He just admitted as much.  
_  
Klink slowly turned back to his American counterpart.  "Colonel Hogan.  It seems that you have had more control over this camp than me from the very beginning.  I always assumed that all your posturing and crazy activity was meant to keep your men in camp alive and healthy.  And since I never had any real intentions to harm any of you, it was easier for me to let you continue.  I never even considered an ulterior motive on your part.  You played the part of a prisoner well Hogan.  Again as an officer, I commend you on your abilities." He paused and sighed.  
  
"Since your takeover, I had imagined that you had run a small operation, where you would give orders to the civilian underground and they would carry the missions out.  It didn't seem to hurt my pride too much. But now, this operation of yours sounds very complex.  I guess it is time for me to swallow any self-respect I have left and admit to being a coward and a fool."  Klink took a deep breath.  "I will allow my men to be 'processed', Colonel, as long as you offer them the choice that you promised." Klink then turn to Schultz and said, "Schultz. I will not hold you to your promise.  If you want to leave, I will understand."  Klink returned his gaze to Hogan. "As for me, Colonel Hogan. I will face your American liberation force.  If that meeting does bring about my death, then so be it.  I can't even pretend that there is a place out there for me now."  
  
Schultz immediately replied, "Colonel Klink, I will stand by my promise to you. I bear the same responsibility you do."  
  
Hogan interrupted, "Colonel Klink.  You told me a week ago that you had made your choice.  You made your choice not to interfere with my plans.  You certainly made that choice three weeks ago when you saved my life.  You just admitted to me that you never had any intentions of harming the POWs in this camp.  That choice was made a long time ago, probably before I even came here." Hogan then turned to Schultz. "And Schultz.  Your choice was evident as soon as I met you." Hogan paused.  
  
"You both have nothing to be responsible for. You both were trying to do the right thing in the midst of this insanity called a war. I commend you both on your humanity," Hogan said resolutely.  Before anyone could respond Hogan said, "Okay, Colonel.  I'm going to give the order for your men to be separated out at the noon roll call.  30 minutes from now.  I will return then and we can get this show on the road."   
  
Hogan left the office quickly, before either man got to think too much.   
  
_That man is such an enigma. "I hope I can trust him,"_ Klink thought out loud.   
  
"Something tells me that you can, Kommandant.  Something tells me that you can," said Schultz quietly.  
  
**Luft Stalag 13, Compound,   
April 22, 1945, 1200 Hours  
**  
The noon roll was called. All POWs assembled, be they Allies or German. Hogan announced to his men that they no longer needed to be 'Germans'.  He didn't want any accidents if the Allies should arrive and see 'Germans' guarding the perimeters.  Hogan would assign snipers and lookouts, but no more German uniforms. He was also going to call and end to the roll calls except for the Camp 19 German POWs.   
  
There was a happy roar throughout the assembly.    
  
Hogan told them that if it appeared an assembly was necessary, there would be a bell rung. He then signaled for Newkirk to separate the prisoners. There were an additional 10 'German' guards in the German POW compound.  They had spread out around the Camp 19 German POWs. Almost immediately, the additional guards closed in on the Camp 19 POWs. They forced them all to lay flat on their stomachs, face in the dirt and hands behind their heads.  
  
Newkirk then had the other 'German' guards herd the Stalag 13 POWs out of their compound and march them to in front of the Kommandant's office. As soon as the German POW compound was secured, the Camp 19 German POWs were allowed to reassemble.  Hogan had Kommandant Klink address his assembled men first.  Klink went over the whole scenario and was quite convincing.  Hogan could tell that most of Klink's men would be happy with a way out, even though lot of the young boys looked completely lost.   
  
Hogan addressed them quickly when Klink finished. He told them what they should expect next. And then called an end to roll call.  Almost immediately, his men were there to show the Stalag 13 guards where they needed to go.  They were split up into five groups of twelve. Small group by small group then disappeared in different directions and would be processed in different orders to conserve time. Some would get papers first, some clothing.  On and on until they were finished. If all went well these men could make their decisions by noon tomorrow.   
  
Klink and Schultz, who were standing next to Hogan, looked worried as they watched their men disappear in different directions. Of course it depended on what their first stop was, as to which direction they headed.   
  
"They will be fine, gentlemen.  Each of the five groups will be processed in a different order to conserve time," Hogan assured them.  "I can give you a tour if you like, Colonel.  It will be a little tight in some places. Sorry, Schultz.  Colonel, if you please?"  Hogan indicated with a sweeping hand movement, that he wanted the Colonel to follow him to Barracks Two.  "You will be able to see your men."  
  
"Lead the way, Colonel Hogan," said Klink very nervous.  _It is very hard to trust, when you have spent what seems like a lifetime, not trusting._  He followed Hogan to his barracks. There were a number of Hogan's men already there.  Most seemed skeptical about the presence of their former Kommandant, but no one questioned Hogan.    
  
Hogan lead Klink to a bunk against the farthest left hand wall from the barrack's door. He paused at the bunk, staring at it for a long moment.  Looking back at Colonel Klink he said, "Sorry, Kommandant. This is awkward for me. We've spent over three years trying to keep this a secret.  I didn't expect it to bother me when I said I would show you our operation."  Hogan paused again and then acquiesced, "Well.  Here goes nothing."   
  
Hogan turned and whacked the side of the bunk with his hand, exposing a tunnel entrance. "This way, Colonel," said Hogan indicating the ladder at the tunnel entrance.    
  
_A tunnel in Barracks Two?_ Klink asked himself. _How many times did we have this barracks searched? It was right in front of us. Unbelievable._ He followed Hogan down the ladder. As he turned from the ladder, he was astonished as he realized that the area in which he was standing was some kind of hub. Tunnels went off in almost every direction.  "How did you?" Klink stammered. "How did you do this?"    
  
Hogan had already started down one of the tunnels, but turned back to see the stunned look on the Kommandant's face.  "I'm sorry, Colonel. This is probably just as awkward for you as it is for me," Hogan offered. "We had our first tunnel within two weeks of my arrival.  It took us a year to complete the entire tunnel system. We've added supplementary tunnel offshoots and storage areas over time. There are six miles of tunnels that crisscross the compound as well as spread out in different directions into the woods. There are five separate entrances scattered through the woods, all strategically made to look like tree stumps.  There are many entrances from within the compound as well, including the cooler, the guard's quarters, the water tower, and the kennel. Most barracks have their own entrances as well," Hogan continued to explain. "If you follow me, you'll be able to see your men." Hogan headed off into one of the tunnels.  
  
Klink followed completely flabbergasted. As he walked, he noticed the extent of Hogan's operation. Hogan had continued with a running commentary. He saw a radio room and a map room.  He saw a place where they appeared to be making counterfeit money. Then another place where they had many civilians' clothes, as well as German uniforms stored, all different branches of the service and various ranks. Then another place where they appeared to have munitions stored.    
  
Klink got to see all of his men. They all appeared just as dumbfounded.  Some were being fitted for civilian clothes, some getting their pictures taken for identification purposes; some others were getting a shave and a less military haircut.  _Remarkable!  Hogan had me out maneuvered from day one.   
_  
As they completed a long circuit of the tunnels, Hogan stopped and faced the Kommandant. "That's pretty much it, Colonel.  Most of the other passages lead to the outside tunnel entrances."   
  
"Well, Colonel Hogan," Klink said shaking his head. "I still feel like a fool." Klink paused and looked at Hogan. Nodding graciously he said, "But like a fool, that was out maneuvered by a military genius."  
  
Hogan nodded in return accepting that as a compliment and then he said, "I couldn't have done any of it alone.  My men are all very good at what they do." Hogan paused.  "Shall we go?"  Hogan indicated a different ladder from the one they had originally climbed down.  Hogan started to climb the ladder. When he got to the top, he had to remove what looked like some kind of locking device and then he pushed something aside.  
  
Klink saw what looked like the inside of a building. When Klink got to the top, he almost fell off the ladder. Hogan had to grab him by the arm. _My quarters! Unbelievable!_  Schultz had been sitting on the couch and had almost jumped out of his skin, when the wood stove moved and Hogan appeared. Klink exited the tunnel and went to sit on the couch.  Schultz collapsed back onto the couch as well.  
  
"Colonel Klink. Sergeant Schultz.  My offer still stands for the both of you.  It could be very dangerous for you to remain here as German military.  You both will not be held accountable for anything.  I will not level charges against either of you.  Please reconsider your decisions," Hogan asked.  "If you want to change your minds, just let me know." Hogan turned and headed for the door.  
  
"Hogan, wait," said Klink determinedly. "You don't understand. I will not run. Too many of my countrymen are running.  I need to be held accountable for my inaction. If others like myself had taken our heads out of the sand, we might have been able to stop Hitler.  As it is too many people have died from our inaction."  
  
"Sorry, Colonel.  I will not press charges," said Hogan. "You will need to find some other way to be accountable," Hogan said evenly.  "Good day, gentleman."  Hogan left Klink's quarters angry.  Klink had never shown such a stubborn streak.  He didn't know how he was going to convince Klink and Schultz that what they were doing was a waste, not to mention possibly deadly.  They'd both be better off working in the civilian sector, helping to rebuild, instead of rotting in some jail somewhere.  
  
Hogan entered the compound, wanting to take a turn around camp to see what was happening, hoping that it would change his mood. His attention was immediately drawn to the south side of the compound where the volleyball net was set up.  Major Killian was there with about thirty children.  Hogan smiled. _That reminds me.  I need to talk with Killian about setting up a volleyball competition to keep people occupied while we all wait for the end of this endless war._  He started across the compound, and spoke to many of the people as he passed them.  Gratefully, their spirits were still high from the earlier announcement that Berlin had fallen.  
  
"Major, may I have a word with you?" Hogan called out as he approached the crowd of children clustered around the net.  
  
"Certainly, Colonel.  Johann keep serving it like I showed you," Killian said to a boy about 12.  The boy nodded and Killian walked over to Hogan's side.  "Yes, sir?"  
  
"Major.  How would you like to organize a little volleyball tournament for the whole camp to participate in?" Hogan asked.  "It's going to be important to keep everyone occupied while we sit here waiting for the end of this war.  So how about it?"  
  
Killian grinned.  "That sounds like a great idea, Colonel.  I'll get right on it."  
  
"Good.  Spread the tournament out.  Don't bunch it all up.  We don't know how long we're going to be here, and not everyone is in good physical condition.  I don't want a lot of injuries.  And don't forget the kids, they need something too," Hogan said.  
  
"Don't worry, sir. I'll have a schedule ready by tomorrow, sir," Killian replied.    
  
"Good.  I'll leave this with you then," Hogan said relieved.  _One less thing to worry about._    
  
"Yes, sir," Killian replied turning back to the children.  
  
Hogan headed off in the direction of the former German NCO barracks to check on the status of the injured in camp.  He entered the barracks and was glad that Doctor Freiling was still there.  And he was relieved to see that there were only the two injured commandos left in here.  He waited patiently until Freiling was done checking on his patients.  
  
"Colonel," Freiling said coming over to the American Officer. "Did you need something of me?"  
  
"Just to speak with you.  How are they?" Hogan asked indicating the two men.  
  
"They'll be fine, Colonel.  They still need bed rest, but they're over the worst of it now," Freiling replied.    
  
"Good.  Can you take a walk with me?" Hogan asked.  
  
"Certainly," Freiling agreed gathering his things up, putting them back in his bag and following Hogan back into the compound.  
  
"I know," Hogan began as they walked off toward the perimeter wire, "That you've become the unofficial spokesperson for the civilians here.  I realize that when you and the rest of your countrymen came into camp, it was to be a short-term thing.  It was just going to be until the Allied forces had passed by the area.  What I want to know now is, has anyone changed their minds about returning to their homes and wants instead to leave Germany all together."  
  
"Where would we go?" Freiling asked perplexed.  
  
"London initially.  From there wherever you'd like," Hogan replied as a matter of fact.  
  
Freiling was quiet for a moment, looking out into the forest that surrounded the camp.  "We are Germans, Colonel.  We have fought hard to preserve our country, not for Hitler but from him.  I don't believe anyone would want to leave.  We have much work ahead of us to rebuild.  But," he said smiling, "I will extend your offer."  
  
"Good that's all I can ask."  Hogan paused.  "What is to happen with the orphans in camp?"  
  
"We've had some discussion about them, Colonel," Freiling replied.  "Some of us are willing to take one or two in.  But it will not be easy.  Sister Mary Nelson wants to keep the children together until things are more settled.  There are many siblings among them, and she wants them to stay together as well.  We had not come up with a plan yet.  Did you have any ideas, Colonel?"  
  
Hogan replied cautiously as an idea struck.  "I have one," he said thinking about a certain toy maker he may be able to persuade to help.  "A lot will depend on the next several days.  But in any case, I will make sure all 24 will stay together for the Sister.  If need be, I'll take them to London with me.  Of course, that may not be the best solution, as I'm sure London has its share of orphans after this bloody mess."  
  
"Colonel.  We will do what we need to. Those children are our responsibility.  It's their future we were fighting for.  We won't be leaving any of them out in the cold," Freiling promised.  
  
"Thanks, Doctor.  I'll keep you posted.  Please let me know of anyone who wishes to leave Germany," Hogan said. "Will I see you at 2100 doctor?"  
  
"You certainly will.  You can't get away from me that easily," Freiling replied sarcastically.  
  
"I've given up trying, Doctor," Hogan replied with a smirk.  "I've given up trying."   
  
Hogan parted company with the doctor. _Now.  How am I going to get Schultz to help? He has that big toy factory. Germany's largest.  Isn't that what he said?  Maybe he could spare some space for the orphans. He's the one who tried to knock Klink and I out of our guilt trips with thoughts of rebuilding this country for the children.  All I need to do is convince him. -- Hopefully the factory is still standing.  Schultz never gave us any indication that anything had happened to it. _As he headed to his barracks, he noticed Klink and Schultz in the compound. They were watching as Hogan's men were striking a tent under Kinch's direction.    
  
Kinch noticed the Colonel and quickly headed in his direction to explain the appearance of the tent.  "Sorry, sir.  I took the liberty of striking the tent.  I knew you wanted the Stalag 13 guards kept away from the Camp 19 German POWs.  It wasn't until I remembered that any decisions the guards would make about leaving wouldn't be until tomorrow that I realized they had no place to sleep tonight. There isn't enough room in the recreation hall for all 60 men," reported Kinch.  "I informed Kommandant Klink and Schultz already. I hope I didn't overstep by boundaries?"  
  
"No.  Good work, Kinch.  Thanks.  I must be slipping.  I never even thought about it. That's why I have you guys backing me up. Right?" Hogan asked.   
  
"Right. No problem, Colonel," replied Kinch.  
  
Hogan nodded at Kinch, and then glanced back at Klink and Schultz.  They were talking to some of their men, who were already back in the compound.  _Hopefully, Klink can ease this transition for his men – But Hell. I still need to make Klink believe he can repay his debt some other way. -- Whoa.  Slow down Hogan -- You still need to convince Schultz as well.  Wow.  Manipulation is a hard habit to break after three years. I know I should let them make their own decisions, but they are hell-bent on making the wrong ones.  
_  
Hogan headed back to his quarters, needing time alone to think.  _If Kyle's there, I'll just pull rank and kick him out._ Thankfully wasn't necessary.  He plunked himself down on his bunk, laid back and stared at the rungs of the top bunk.  _I've been spending so much time worrying about getting through this war.  I've yet to think about what I wanted to do when it was over. Of course up until a few days ago I had nothing to look forward too. -- After all the sabotage and the lost lives. I feel like Klink.  I need to repay my debt to this society.  I need to help them rebuild their lives. -- How? -- What can I do?  
_  
Hogan lay contemplating his future for a long time, when an idea finally became apparent.  He would need to call in a lot of favors, but there were enough high mucky-mucks that owed their lives to his operation.  He was sure he could get what he wanted.  It might also allow him to have something for Klink to do.  He would start calling those favors in tomorrow.  _Manipulation? Blackmail? It doesn't matter, if it can help me repay my debt to this society._  
  
With his decision made, Hogan decided to get some sleep and dozed off quickly.  
  
**Luft Stalag 13, Barrack Two,   
April 22, 1945, 1800 Hours  
**  
Hogan woke to a lot of commotion coming from the main barracks.  Exiting his office he found Major Killian trying to pick the 15 men for the intra-barracks volleyball tournament.  Everybody was talking at once and everyone had their own opinion of their proficiency at volleyball.    
  
Killian noticed Hogan coming from his quarters and said, "Sorry, Colonel. I didn't expect so much fuss. I didn't mean to wake you."  
  
"Not a problem, Major," said Hogan. _It's just nice to see his men letting off some steam._ "So who are the men to represent Barracks Two?" Hogan asked.   
  
"Sir," Killian said.  "It looks as if we'll have to have tryouts to find the tournament players. I think I'll need two to three days of tryouts, then the tournament can begin."  
  
"Great, Major.  I look forward to watching." Hogan nodded his thanks to Killian. _The tryouts will give everyone a shot at playing. Then we can get on with the serious games.  By that time, the men will have invested enough time and energy, so they will need to see for themselves who the victors are.  
_  
Hogan turned to Kinch. "Kinch, I'm going to get something to eat. When I return I want to talk to you, LeBeau, Carter and Newkirk.  Give me a hour."  
  
"Yes, sir, Colonel," replied Kinch.  
  
Hogan exited the barracks and headed for the mess hall. He noticed that Klink and Schultz were still in the compound with the Stalag 13 guards. Hogan went over to see how things were going.  "Excuse me, gentlemen.  Have your men made any decisions yet?" asked Hogan.  
  
"Good evening, Colonel," Klink replied. "I've talked to all the men. There are 15 young men who wish to stay. They have no families and nowhere to go.  The rest have chosen to leave."  Klink paused and looked directly at Hogan. "Do they still have your guarantee of safe passage, Colonel Hogan?"  
  
"They do, Kommandant. They will be allowed to leave in groups of two and three, so they aren't too obvious. They can start as early as tomorrow morning," Hogan said. "I can only guarantee safe passage out those gates, Kommandant. The rest is up to them, but the identification papers and money supplied to them have a proven track record of success. Like I said, my men are very good at what they do.  Your men will still be safer out in the countryside as civilians than staying here as German military."  
  
"Very well, Colonel.  I will talk to them all again before they leave. Can you guarantee the safety of the 15 young men who want to stay?" asked Klink. "They are worried for fear of retribution."  
  
"Colonel.  They have nothing to worry about." Hogan assured. "All the people in camp have agreed to this 'release'. They will not go back on their word to me. The 15 young men will be moved into the recreation hall tomorrow."  
  
"Thank you, Colonel Hogan. I will let them know," Klink said.  
  
"Then I will see you in the morning, Colonel.  I will help you see your men off.  Good evening, gentlemen," said Hogan.  
  
Hogan walked toward the mess hall.  He would get something to eat and then he would have to explain his plans to his men at the meeting.  _This war is really coming to an end. I never expected the day to come, when I would give the command to leave this place.  But it's looming so close we need to be prepared.  _  
  
**Luft Stalag 13, Barrack Two,   
April 22, 1945, 1900 Hours  
**  
Hogan entered Barracks Two and noticed that his men were already waiting on him. "In my quarters, gentleman please," Hogan said as he walked to his quarters, his men following right behind. Hogan hadn't planned this meeting and he could tell that his men were a little on edge thinking something was wrong. As he entered his quarters, Hogan noticed that Kyle was there.  "You are out of here, Kyle. This is a private meeting," Hogan said making a quick hitchhiking motion over his shoulder.  
  
"Yes, sir," Kyle said as he left the office.  
  
When the door closed behind Birmingham, Hogan turned to his men and smiled slightly.  "Relax, gentleman.  Everything is fine.  First, I wanted you to know that I never thought this moment would come.  The war seemed so endless.  Of course more recently, I honestly didn't think I was going to make it to this moment.  But, here we are."    
  
Hogan paused and grinned broadly. "I called this meeting as the first in a series of --'end of war' -- planning sessions.  We still have a lot to do and we need to keep our wits about us.  But, this bloody war is coming to an end.  Congratulations, gentlemen.  You've done exceptional work here."   
  
An outburst of cheers emanated from his men along with some backslapping and bear hugs.  Hogan withstood a couple of bear hugs, until his men realized what they just did to their still injured commanding officer.  They immediately went into panic mode and apologized.  "Whoa. Calm down, guys.  I'm fine.  Believe me, it was worth it.  Nothing could detract from this moment."  He reached out and shook each man's hand.   
  
When everyone settled down, Hogan addressed his men more seriously.  "I want you all to know, that as of tomorrow I will be contacting London.  My goal is to have every man in this camp promoted at least one grade.  The men here the longest with us, I will push for a two grade promotion.  And for you four men, I'm expecting a three grade promotion," Hogan said.  "I may have to call in a lot of favors.  But I honestly don't expect that I'll have too many problems getting what I want."    
  
Hogan noticed some of his men look away.    
  
He responded, "I realize, gentleman, that some of you were not planning to continue in the military after this war.  I will work at making these promotions stand, so that at the very least you can resign your commissions with the upgrades.  For anyone of you who plan on staying in the military, I will certainly assist in getting you a posting you deserve."  
  
Hogan's men all looked at him, somewhat sadly.  All seemingly with the same thought appearing on their faces. _My God this is really the end._  "Thank you, sirs," were all that that was heard.   
  
"You are welcome.  I guess we should get down to business then," Hogan said trying to change the subject quickly.  He would miss these men when they parted company. They'd come to mean a lot to him.  
  
Hogan noticed his four men exchange glances.  Then Kinch said, "Excuse me Colonel. What are your plans?  If you don't mind us asking?"  
  
"No I don't mind.  I've only just made up my mind this afternoon.  I finally came to the realization that I actually could make a choice. I will accept the promotions handed to me, but I will not accept them until my return to England.  My reluctance to accept was because the promotions were unnecessary to our continued operation here.  And also, because of when they were handed to me, my mental and emotional state made me believe that London only promoted me, 'posthumously'.  I had refused to look at the sealed orders that came with the stars, until General Birmingham forced the issue."  Hogan paused then smiled slightly. "It seems that I've been a General for close to three years, with the promotion to a two-star General, a year and a half ago.  London didn't want to disrupt our operation.  So I was going to be told at the end of our POW experience."  
  
Hogan's men shook his hand to congratulate him in turn.    
  
"Thank you, gentlemen," Hogan said quietly.  "I guess, I should tell you that in addition to accepting the promotions, my plan is to return here, to Germany.  Of course, that's only if I can convince the Allied High Command.  Word has it that Germany will be split into 4 military zones, with the US controlling the southern most section.  I plan on lobbying heavily for the position of Military Governor of the US controlled zone.  Of course, it will mean calling in some of those same favors I mentioned. I have a need to help these people rebuild their lives, especially since I've spent three years ordering the destruction of a good part of southern Germany.  It's just something I feel I need to do."  
  
"Blimey!  You never do anything the easy way, Colonel," said Newkirk.  He paused and then offered quietly,  "These people will be lucky to have you in their court, sir." The others then jumped in with their support for Hogan's decision.    
  
"Thanks, guys. Let's just hope that Allied High Command feels the same way," replied Hogan. "Well let us get this meeting started, we have lots to do.  First, it appears that 45 of Klink's men are leaving. The other 15 will be staying.  My assumption, at this point, is that most of these are the youngest of Klink's men.  Klink said they have no families or places to go.  They will need to be quartered with the civilians.  Any foreseeable problems?"  
  
Kinch reported, "No, sir.  15 is doable.  It shouldn't take more than an hour to add the beds."  
  
"Good.  I've also talked to Doc Freiling.  He believes that all the German civilians in camp will want to remain in Germany.  I've asked him to make sure as we would need a contingency plan to bring anyone who wishes to leave to London.  I will see him in a couple of hours to confirm this," Hogan said. "I will let you know if we need to make any additional plans."  
  
"Another problem is that both Klink and Schultz are hell-bent on turning themselves into the American Forces coming to liberate this camp. As you know, neither man could handle being incarcerated by the 'regular' army.  Both feel they need to be held accountable for their inaction during this war.  I want to provide both men with something essential to do, so they can feel they've repaid their debt."   
  
Hogan paused looking intently at his men.  
  
"I was hoping to offer Klink a civilian liaison position in the military government. I will lobby for that, even if I do not get the Military Governorship position. I haven't told him that yet. I'm not sure how I'm going to tell him.  But I think he would do well in a civilian capacity where the fear of death didn't hang over his head everyday," Hogan offered.  
  
"And there is an additional issue. There are 24 orphans, a nun, as well as 15 of Klink's guards who have no place to go.  But, I do have an idea."  Hogan paused.  "Schultz, just recently, gave Klink and I a dressing down about rebuilding this country for the children.  I want to convince Schultz to take all the children and the other young men with him.  He owns that huge toy factory.  I'm sure he can put them up for a while," Hogan said, almost in question and waiting on his men's opinions.  
  
They only offered up their agreement.   
  
"Okay, gentlemen. I will talk to them both, sometime in the next few days. I appreciate your support in this matter," replied Hogan.   
  
Hogan paused and then smiled. "We do have one more topic of discussion.  We need to come up with a plan to implode all the tunnels for the day we leave Stalag 13.  I don't want large explosions, just something to collapse them. We can't leave any evidence behind.  And since we won't be taking any of the equipment, maybe we can give the equipment to the underground.  Carter can you handle this?" asked Hogan.  
  
"With pleasure, Colonel," said Carter smiling broadly.   
  
There were smiles all around.   
  
"Good," said Hogan returning the infectious smile. "Dismissed."    
  
Hogan watched as his men left.  He had originally hoped that he could convince them all to come work for him, but quickly realized that wasn't to be. He had always expected that LeBeau and Newkirk would resign from the military, as they both had other more worldly talents and ambitions.  He had always imagined LeBeau as the head chef of his own extravagant French restaurant. _That hot-tempered little Frenchman will do well for himself.  And Newkirk is either going to end up in jail, or the proud owner of a pub.  I'm betting on the pub. And I suppose if I was ever looking for some side-action, he would know where to find it.  
_  
As for Carter, Hogan wasn't too sure what he was going to do.  He knew that if he asked Carter to come work for him, the kid probably would out of loyalty.  _I'm not going to push. Carter might just be happier at home in Bullfrog ND, than here in Germany. Although I'm not sure how happy Bullfrog, ND will be with Carter on the loose. I have visions of him as a chemistry teacher.  Though how long the chemistry lab will last, will be the all-important question.  
_  
Kinch was a different story altogether.  Hogan had worked the closest with Kinch and considered him a good friend._ What I hadn't remembered until Kyle showed up, that is, was that the world outside Stalag 13 wouldn't accept a black man as readily.  As a Captain in the army, Kinch could do well.  In the civilian sector, Hogan wasn't too sure._  Hogan hoped he could convince Kinch to stay and work with him. _But Kinch deserves his own command.  And if that's what he wants, I'll work hard at getting it for him.   
_  
**Luft Stalag 13, Outside Barracks Two,   
April 22, 1945, 2000 Hours  
**  
Kinch, Newkirk, LeBeau and Carter left Colonel Hogan's quarters and headed outside Barracks Two.  They stood quietly for a few minutes. "Has anyone actually thought about what they were going to do after the war?" Kinch asked.  "What if those promotions come through? Will it change anyone's mind?"  
  
LeBeau answered, "Right now.  I feel like I will be deserting Colonel Hogan, if I do not stay in the military.  I'm sure he would be willing to continue our working relationship. But he's not asking. Honestly though, I do not want to continue in the military. I want to go back to Paris, open a restaurant, and work on a family. I appreciate Colonel Hogan's offer of a promotion, but I think that regardless of what happens, I will not re-enlist."  
  
"I'm with you, Louis. Working with Colonel Hogan was an incredible experience.  But, I just don't see the military being my future," said Newkirk.  "I want to go back to London and my family. Maybe open a pub. I'm not sure, but taking orders from officers won't be part of my life anymore."  
  
"Don't any of you feel like Colonel Hogan? Needing to help rebuild this country?  It was my incendiaries that did most of the damage," stated Carter sadly. He paused and looked away from the others. "But, it sure would be nice to go home and forget this whole experience."  
  
Kinch had been quiet while the other three discussed their ideas, as he wasn't at all sure what he was going to do.  He had forgotten what the non-military lifestyle was like.  Race relations in the US weren't all that great.  He wasn't sure what he would do if he left the service.  Race had never meant anything to Colonel Hogan and the men here at Stalag 13.  It had taken that encounter with General Birmingham to remind him of what the outside world was like.  He could legitimately request a permanent position with Colonel Hogan. But Colonel Hogan was also offering him a three-grade up-grade that would make him a Captain. He could have his own command, but it would certainly be in the segregated army.  
  
"Kinch," Newkirk asked when Kinch didn't immediately volunteer his opinion. "What are your plans?"  
  
Kinch replied part of his decision made, "I'll be staying in the military.  If the upgrade comes through, I might be able to get my own command.  But, I feel I can't let Colonel Hogan do what he's planning on his own.  He's been very good to me. I owe him."  
  
LeBeau asked, "Do you guys think the Colonel can pull off his newest scheme?"  
  
"After three years, you're questioning his ability, LeBeau?" Newkirk asked with a grin. "That man could convince God that the Devil was just misunderstood!"  
  
Everyone enjoyed a few good laughs at their commanding officer's expense.  Their conversation lingered on the crazy schemes that the Colonel had cooked up to make this operation a success.  Not to mention, that the man had been able to keep them all alive with the wildest activities.  They all owed him a lot, but they knew he would never ask them for anything once this operation was over.  
  
**Luft Stalag 13, Colonel Hogan's Quarters,   
April 22, 1945, 2100 Hours  
**  
Doc Freiling entered Hogan's quarters after knocking.  Hogan had been resting, but was already standing to meet the doctor as he entered. "Good evening, Doc," said Hogan. "Do you have any news from the other civilians?"  
  
"Good evening, Colonel.  Everyone is content to stay here in Germany.  Like I said. We have lots of work to do," the doctor assured.  
  
"Okay, Doc. No pressure from me. I just wanted to make sure I covered all the bases," Hogan answered.  
  
"You are a good man, Colonel.  I'll be sad to see you go when this is over," the doctor replied extending his hand to Hogan.  
  
Hogan grasped the doctor's hand firmly. "The feeling is mutual, Doctor.  I don't know how to express my gratitude to you.  You saved my life and you have been an indispensable part of our operation."  Hogan realized that if his plans all came to fruition, he would indeed probably be seeing a lot of the doctor, but he wasn't going to inform the civilian contingent, until he was sure.  
  
"Colonel.  I do have something we need to discuss before your return to London."  The doctor pulled out a folded sheet of paper from his pocket.  "It's important that you bring this note with you.  You need to give it to the doctors in London.  It explains your injuries in complete detail."    
  
The doctor paused and looked away from Hogan.  "I'm sorry, Colonel.  There is something that I had made no mention of to you.  The thought of getting to this point in time was still unimaginable.  So.  I didn't want to burden you with it." The doctor slowly returned his gaze and looked at Hogan.    
  
Hogan's face had gone white as a sheet and his whole body had tensed.  He didn't respond at all, appearing somewhat in shock.  
  
"Oh God, Colonel Hogan," Freiling said quickly. "I'm sorry.  It's nothing that can't be dealt with easily with a better equipped hospital." Freiling put his hand on Hogan's shoulder. "Listen to me, son," he said.  "I'm just concerned that if it was a bone chip that caused the infection in the first place, it may be necessary to remove it.  Also they may need to do some reconstructive surgery, but mostly I want them to make sure there are no other fragments.  Leaving them there could cause problems in the future."  The doctor didn't feel Hogan relax under his grasp.  He gave the Colonel a shake and said pointedly,  "You are not going to die, son.  Do you understand me?  You are not going to die.  It's just something that you can't ignore forever.  The sooner it's dealt with the better." It took a long moment, but Doctor Freiling finally felt Hogan's body shiver and then relax.    
  
"You don't make it easy for a guy.  Do you, Doc?" Hogan said nervously, and honestly not believing that he could cope with more surgery.  
  
"Then we're even, Colonel.  You didn't make it easy for your old country doctor either," Freiling responded. He took his hand and gave Hogan's neck a squeeze and patted the man on the shoulder before he removed his hand altogether.  He hoped that he could trust Hogan to take care of himself.  _The man is so stubborn._  
  
"Touché, Doc.  Touché," Hogan said with a small smile, and finally took the paper from the doctor and put it in his jacket pocket.  "I promise.  I'll have it taken care of," Hogan assured and took the doctor's hand in his and said, "Thanks again."  
  
"Okay," said Doc Freiling. "Let's get this exam over with."  Freiling gave Hogan his medication and checked his vision.  Hogan's vision had improved a little, but not enough to warrant removing the eye patch.  The doctor continued to grill his patient about eating, but Freiling had noticed no more substantial weight loss from Hogan. _Of course, he isn't eating well, but he is surviving. _When he finished his exam he said,  "Good night, Colonel.  I'll see you in the morning.  Get some sleep."   
  
"Good night, Doc," said Hogan heading for his bunk after watching the doctor leave. _God I'm tired._ He quickly drifted off to sleep, never even hearing Kyle enter later that evening.  
  
**Luft Stalag 13, Compound,   
April 23, 1945, 0700 Hours  
**  
Kommandant Klink and his men had assembled early.  Hogan had gone out to support the decisions of those who were to leave.  He had all his lookouts and snipers assemble in the compound. They were to place their weapons on the ground as additional proof that Hogan was going to keep his promise.  Hogan then stood in the background as Klink said his final good-byes to his men. As ordered, they all left the camp in twos and threes.  The whole process took about 45 minutes. Hogan's men were sent back to their posts. And Klink never said anything to Hogan, but had only saluted him before returning to his quarters.  
  
Hogan returned to his own quarters to wait for his morning visit from the doctor, figuring he would lie down for an hour or so.  Not surprisingly, when he arrived, Kyle was still sleeping, so Hogan plunked himself down quietly on the bottom bunk.  He couldn't help but wonder what Klink was feeling now.  _How would I have felt if it was my men that had just left?  I'd be miserable.  But it is the safest way.    
_  
Hogan heard Kyle stir, "You up, Kyle?"   
  
"Yeah. Yeah.  Who can sleep?  You even think too loud," Kyle complained.  
  
"Do I really make you that uncomfortable, Kyle?" Hogan asked. "I can always get you new sleeping quarters."  
  
"It's all right, Rob.  It's just me," Kyle admitted.  "You've been so intense lately, that anytime I'm around you, whether you're talking to me or not, I know you're there.  This 'new' you is hard for me to get used too.  I still remember you as a carefree pilot and bachelor extraordinaire."    
  
"Those days are long gone, Kyle," Hogan replied with a sigh.  "It hasn't been the same since I was captured."  
  
"Rob.  I can't believe that you're not still a ladies' man.  How about that time back in London when I fixed you up with Karen's friend Beth Newton?  She was quite smitten with you as I recall," Kyle said lying back on his bunk.  
  
"Sorry to disappoint you, Kyle. There has not been a lot of call for that particular talent here," Hogan said evenly. _God.  I haven't thought about Beth in such a long time.  I had tried never to get too involved in a relationship, especially knowing that the war is so unpredictable.  But I found myself falling in love with Beth.  Then after I was captured and knew I wasn't leaving here any time soon, I had written her that 'goodbye' letter.  It just wouldn't have been fair to keep her hanging.  I never did receive a response to my letter.  I guess I wasn't really expecting one._ "By the way, how are Karen and your family?  You have two girls, right?" Hogan asked trying to keep his feelings for Beth at bay.  
  
"Actually there are three now.  Karen had Lizabeth just before I moved them out of London to Manchester. They moved to my folk's house to get away from all the bombing.  London has taken a beating," Kyle replied shaking his head. "I try to see them every month.  It's hard, them being so far away, but they are safer there.  How about you?  Your brothers, sister and parents?"  
  
"The mail is unreliable here.  Nothing has come in or gone out for the past eight months.  The last thing I heard was that my parents were fine, still living in Bridgeport CT.  My sister Susan married her childhood sweetheart Ed.  They have a baby boy, Stephen, who will be two years in July.  And just last year, Joe was assigned to the Pentagon as a Colonel in Intelligence."  Hogan paused and took a deep breath.  He tried not to think too much about his youngest brother.  "Last word on John was that he had been shot down over the Pacific and listed as MIA."  
  
"God, Rob, I'm sorry to hear that," Kyle said. _Wow. Eight months with no word whatsoever from the outside. _"It must be brutal to be so out of touch.  I can't imagine what it took for you to stay here."  
  
"We had a job to do here, Kyle," Hogan stated unequivocally.  
  
"Yeah.  I understand that," Kyle replied just as explicit.  
  
They were interrupted by a knock on the door.  "That will be the Doc," Hogan said matter of factly.  
  
Kyle swung out of bed.  "I am out of here then."  Kyle opened the door and admitted the doctor.  "He's all yours, Doc," he said and closed the door behind him.  
  
For Hogan, nothing had changed much since last night, the bruises were fading and the pain from his ribs was manageable now.  The worst he was left with was the patch over his eye, but even that he'd grown accustomed to.  The thing that scared him the most now was the thought of submitting to more surgery.  While he knew intellectually that it would be done with anesthesia, his last memory of how painful surgery actually was would stay with him forever.    
  
**_After the examination…  
_**  
Hogan left his quarters and collected Kinch on his way to the radio room.  He was ready to send his requests to Allied Headquarters.  "Kinch," Hogan said writing rapidly on a piece of paper.  "Send this message to London.  Address it to all of the Allied Command Personnel."  
  
"All of them, Colonel?" Kinch asked.  
  
"Yeah.  We've got men here from every country at war with Hitler's Third Reich.  They all have to be notified of my request," Hogan clarified.  
  
Kinch read the message and grinned.  "You're going to be creating quite a stir there, sir."  
  
"Let's hope so, Kinch.  They need to be shaken up a bit," Hogan said with a grin of amusement.   
  
Kinch nodded and sent off Hogan's message.  
  
_Papa Bear to Mama Bear. Submission of long range plans to follow.  Request airlift of POWs from camp after liberation. Papa Bear will confirm. Urgent cargo to be moved.  2500 men to be moved, with small number of wounded, no life threatening injuries. Request promotions for the 2000 personnel assigned to Papa Bear. List will be hand carried by Papa Bear.  Multiple grade promotions expected for most.  Papa Bear requests new assignment.  Position expected. Future Military Governor US Controlled Zone, Germany.  Standing by.  Papa Bear.  
_  
**London, England, Allied High Command,   
April 23, 1945, 1000 Hours  
**  
Colonel Joseph Hogan and his staff from the Pentagon had arrived late last night in London from Washington DC. He and his staff were assigned the duty of debriefing all covert operators that would be soon returning from Germany.  Some of these operators had been in deep cover for long periods of time.  For security reasons, as well as to protect the lives of these men and women, the real names of these operators were only known to very few here in London at Allied High Command.  Anywhere else, they were only addressed with their Code Names.   
  
He and his men would need to familiarize themselves with the status of these people before they returned.  It was not uncommon for some to have switched allegiances during their long time undercover.  He and his men were charged with ferreting those operators out and then those operators would be tried for treason.  It was not a job Colonel Hogan was looking forward too, but it was a necessary evil.  
  
Colonel Joseph Hogan and his staff had gone over the covert operations records kept at the Pentagon.  He might not know the names of these operators, but their deeds were always reported.  Some of these operators were instrumental in bringing the Third Reich to its knees in some parts of Germany.  He was looking forward to talking to these people. There was one agent, in particular, known as Papa Bear, that he couldn't wait to meet.  From what he understood, this agent almost single handedly disrupted the German War Effort from deep behind enemy lines.  But of course, he would have to be impartial and treat all of them as suspects first.  
  
On a more personal note, he was hoping to find out more information about the movement of POWs and expected that he would be able to find out more information from the people here at Allied Headquarters.  His older brother Rob had been held as a POW in Germany for more than three years, after his plane had been shot down.  His family hadn't heard anything from Rob in the last eight months.  Any letters his family had sent had been returned unopened.  With all the reports coming in from camps being liberated, he was worried he would never see his brother again.  He had promised his parents that he would find out what had happened to Rob. Of the three boys in his family, all of whom had entered the military, Rob was the only one unaccounted for.  Their younger brother John had been sent home eight months ago, with an honorable medical discharge.  His plane had been shot down over the Pacific, but he had been rescued.  He had sustained some serious spinal injuries, but had almost completely recovered from them.  _It is just hard to believe that of the three of us, Rob might be the one not to come home.  He's always had such a love of life and adventure.   
_  
**_After first arriving at Headquarters…   
_**  
Colonel Joseph Hogan waited for his escort to General Simpson's office.  Simpson was the American General in charge of the communication's network that had kept tabs on all these operators.  He would be meeting with Simpson first, and then be introduced to the General's Russian, English, and French counterparts.  Once the formalities were over, he and his men could get on with their jobs.  They would be assigned offices here within the Allied High Command building as soon as Hogan completed the necessary formalities.    
  
A Major Kimmel soon met him at the building's entrance.   
  
Colonel Joseph Hogan noticed a strange double take on the part of Major Kimmel when he first arrived.  It seemed innocent enough and the man had recovered nicely and saluted quickly.    
  
"Good morning, Colonel Hogan.  It's a pleasure to meet you. General Simpson is expecting you," said Kimmel.  "If you would follow me, sir?" _Oh my God!  The man is almost the spitting image of Colonel Robert Hogan. He has to be his brother! Papa Bear's brother!?_  
  
As they approached General Simpson's office, Major Kimmel stepped out in front saying, "Let me announce you, Colonel Hogan.  It will be just a minute."  Kimmel had to tell General Simpson about their guest, before the General had the same reaction he did.  It was still important to keep the identities of the operators a secret.  It just might be very difficult in this case, but he would let the General decide what should be done.  
  
After having prepared the General for his guest, Kimmel exited the office to find Colonel Joseph Hogan being accosted by two other officers.  Both were congratulating him on his safe return to England. _They must have over heard me use his name. Damn.    
_  
Of course, poor Colonel Joseph Hogan appeared puzzled, but accepted the congratulations with dignity.    
  
Major Kimmel interjected, "Excuse me, gentlemen.  This is Colonel _Joseph_ Hogan.  He just arrived today from Washington DC."  Kimmel had tried to put a small emphasis on the Colonel's first name, hoping to convey his message to the other two officers.  It worked, almost immediately they excused themselves.  
  
"This way, Colonel Hogan," said Kimmel, indicating the General's office.  
  
"Of course," said Colonel Joseph Hogan.  He looked after the two men who had just made their escape and shook his head in confusion.  _Just a case of mistaken identity I guess._  He then followed Major Kimmel into General Simpson's office. Coming to attention and saluting he said, "Colonel Joseph Hogan.  Reporting for duty, sir."   
  
"At ease Colonel Hogan.  Please sit down.  Make yourself comfortable.  We have a lot to discuss," said the General. _Oh boy, do we have a lot to discuss. _ "How was your flight, Colonel?  Are your men settling in?" Simpson had been told the name of his new officer, but had never expected it to be a member of Robert Hogan's family.  _Of course, the Pentagon would not have known the connection.  
_  
"Yes, sir.  Everything went well.  We are eager to start working.  My men are awaiting their office assignments as we speak," Joseph Hogan replied.   
  
"Good.  Good.  So tell me, Colonel Hogan.  How are things on the home front?" the General asked as a pleasantry, knowing full well though that he needed to confirm this Colonel's identity.  If this Colonel Hogan was indeed Papa Bear's brother, he couldn't be the one to debrief Papa Bear and his men.  And even if this man turns out to be unrelated to Papa Bear somehow, Simpson would still probably have to tell this Colonel Hogan the truth anyway, before the man got any more crazy looks from the General's staff.  But before he even got a response to his original question, there was a knock at the door.    
  
"Come," said the General.  
  
Major Kimmel entered.  "I'm sorry, General, but we have received a rather extraordinary communiqué from Papa Bear."  Kimmel just shook his head.  "I know we usually don't come to you with his requests, but he has made this request of all the command personal here at Allied High Command.  And this one I believe, sir, is his most notable to date."  Kimmel sighed and handed the note to General Simpson trying to avoid any eye contact with Colonel Hogan.   
  
Simpson was quiet for a long moment as he read the request from Papa Bear.  He sighed and said, "Boy.  I'm so glad Papa Bear was on our side.  That man would have been a menace to the Allied War Effort.  Major, please contact the other officers that Papa Bear sent this request to.  Set up a meeting for as soon as possible today.  I cannot make this decision on my own," sighed the General.  
  
"Yes, sir.  Right away, sir," said Major Kimmel quickly and exited the office.  
  
Colonel Joseph Hogan was taken aback.  "Is there something I need to know about this Papa Bear General?  Both you and Major Kimmel seemed very apprehensive about his request.  From what I had understood, Papa Bear is an exceptional operative."  
  
"Oh, Colonel Hogan," the General said with a guilty smirk.  "It is Joe, isn't it?  Can I call you Joe?" Simpson smiled and shook his head. "You don't know the half of it." _How can I tell this man that his brother is the most ingenious spy we have, but also the most eccentric as well?  
_  
"Yes, sir, you can call me Joe.  I'm sorry, sir.  I'm so confused right now.  One minute ago, you seemed anxious.  Now you appear to be amused.  What's going on?" asked Joseph Hogan.  
  
"It's a long story Colonel Hogan," the General began. "But before I tell it to you though… you need to confirm something for me.  Do you have a brother, a Colonel Robert Hogan?  And has this brother been a POW at Stalag 13 for the last three years?"   
  
"Yes, General.  My brother's name is Robert and he was, at least until we lost contact with him, the Senior POW Officer at Stalag 13.  Do you know his status, General?  We haven't heard from him for eight months," Joseph Hogan explained nervously. _What would Allied High Command know about my brother?  
_  
"Don't worry, Joe, your brother is fine.  He had sustained some serious injuries recently, but if this request is any indication, he has indeed recovered.  I'm sorry for all the funny looks you've gotten this morning.  You look a lot like your brother, you know.  He's been here at Allied Headquarters a few times in the last three years.  You see Colonel… your brother, Colonel Robert Hogan, also goes by the name Papa Bear."   
  
Joseph Hogan just stared, unfocused, at the General, not saying anything. _Papa Bear? Oh my God!  Rob is alive!  Rob is a spy?  Rob has been here at Allied Headquarters?  How can that be? Rob is in a prison camp. What the hell is going on?  
_  
"Joe," said Simpson trying to get his attention.  "Colonel Hogan, attention!"    
  
Joseph Hogan's gaze snapped back to focus on the General.    
  
"So, Joe.  Do you want to hear a long story, a sort of fairy tale, about a Papa Bear?" the General asked with a grin.  All he got from Joe was an affirmative headshake.  The General spent the next hour giving Joe a rundown on his bother's operation.  Joe would occasionally ask questions, but mostly he listened quietly.  "So can you see now," the General finally said, "why your brother could have been a menace, if he was working for the other side?"  
  
"I'm sorry, General.  I haven't grasped all of this yet.  Speaking as his brother, I'm just glad he's alive and I can let my family know that.  Other than that, this is just too much for me to handle. For all we knew, he was a just a normal POW for Christ sake," said Joe bewildered.  "Rob was never trained as an intelligence officer, he was a pilot."  
  
"His lack of covert training was never an issue.  His methods have been truly unorthodox.  He set up the whole operation himself.  It was really ingenious.  Who would have thought that an underground operation could be run from a POW camp?  It's also probably why he was never caught." -- _Well, make that almost never_ -- "Nobody could predict what he was going to do from one minute to the next.  He has kept everyone on their toes for over three years. The Germans, the Allies, and even his own men I would wager," Simpson said.    
  
"From everything I've read about Papa Bear in the past year… I would believe that.  I just can't believe that I've been reading about my brother all this time," Joe said shaking his head in disbelief. "All this about him running a covert operation from a POW camp is just incredible."  
  
"Is this going to be a problem for you?  You will not be responsible for debriefing him.  I'll do that," Simpson asked.  
  
"No, sir.  It won't be a problem," Joe Hogan said quickly. "Putting aside my relationship to Papa Bear for the moment, General.  You must realize that you've created a monster.  You said that he's pretty much had free reign.  His requests were never questioned.  Just filled.  Now he wants to be the Military Governor of what will eventually be the US controlled zone in Germany.  He expects promotions for the 2000 men in camp with him and he's demanding an airlift for all of his men back to London.  That's not the way a covert operator should be posturing."  
  
"Ordinarily I would agree with you, Colonel," the General said amused.  "Honestly, we have all, at one time or another, been skeptical about your brother's sanity over the past three years.  One of the craziest requests he ever made, was for a pizza recipe from a pizzeria in Newark NJ.  We had a four way call, from Stalag 13 to a submarine to Allied Headquarters to Newark NJ.  Your brother got his pizza recipe and the Allies gained a new spy in Italy supplying us with German troop movements.  After that, we gave up worrying about his requests.  He came through for us every time."   
  
The General paused looking directly at Colonel Joseph Hogan. "Your brother is an exceptional officer, Joe.  He has managed to keep 2000 men working together and alive in difficult circumstances.  He has literally confounded the German Military Machine right from under their noses.  And they never caught on."  The General paused. "I won't be surprised that after this meeting today, your brother will indeed be granted his requests."   
  
"That's astounding, General.  I couldn't be prouder or more impressed with my big brother." -- _Military Governor?_ -- "I'm just still surprised that he can call up the Allied High Command and make demands," Joseph Hogan replied shaking his head.  
  
"Oh. The one thing I didn't mention to you Joe was that your brother now outranks most of the command personnel here at Allied Headquarters.  He has yet to officially accept the promotions, although today's request makes me believe that he is leaning in that direction.  Joe, your brother Rob is now a two-star General. And if the rumor mill is correct, a third star will be coming his way soon.  He can pretty much demand what he wants," General Simpson explained.  
  
"Oh," was all Joe could say.  _Rob you're going to be a three-star General?  Incredible. So much for us worrying about you wasting away in a POW camp!  God.  Please.  Please take care of yourself.  It's almost over.  
_  
General Simpson had left Joseph Hogan to his thoughts.    
  
Joe never noticed the General leave the room. He finally looked up as the General returned to the office.  "I'm sorry General.  Please excuse my behavior.  I should be getting back to my men."  Joseph Hogan stood and saluted.   
  
The General returned the salute.  "That meeting will be held here in one hour Colonel.  You are welcome to attend.  It will be easier to explain your presence to everyone at once."    
  
"Yes, sir.  I'll be there, General," replied Joseph Hogan.  
  
**_Almost three hours later…  
_**  
Colonel Joseph Hogan was walking back to his office after the meeting had adjourned. _That meeting was simply the most amazing thing I've ever seen.  _All the principles arrived. Generals one and all.  Joe was introduced to each one in turn.  They all took seats and General Simpson read the list of Papa Bear's demands.  They voted promptly, unanimously granting Rob everything he wanted.  It was simply amazing.  The meeting then turned into a reminiscence hour, with most of the men in the room each having a story about Papa Bear for him.    
  
_My brother is a lunatic! The things that I just heard are literally unbelievable.  More like stories you'd hear in the pub after a few rounds, than factual accounts of espionage operations.  None of what they told me has been in the reports.  If that room hadn't been full of half the Generals in the Allied High Command, I wouldn't have believed one word of it.  Rob has always had a silver tongue, able to talk himself out of anything.  But this is more than double-talking out of a date with two girls in one night! What Rob was doing is very dangerous, and he'd taken 2,000 men along for the ride.  But he's obviously been very successful. Those Generals at the meeting were ready to give him everything he'd asked for, and more.  
_  
Joe arrived back at his office and spent some time organizing, still thinking about what he'd learned about his brother.  He still couldn't fathom all that Rob had been doing.  _How did you get away with it big brother? I guess that it really doesn't matter.  I'm just relieved that you're alive and coming home._    
  
Joe's thoughts were interrupted when he heard a knock on his door.  "Come in," he called out looking up.  "General, sir.  Come in."  Joe saluted trying to remember the General's name.  He knew the man had been at the meeting in Simpson's office.  "I'm sorry, sir. After all of the people I was introduced to, I can't quite remember your name.  Is it Barton?"  
  
"Good afternoon, Colonel," the General said.  "Yes it's Barton.  Aloysius Barton."  
  
"What can I do for you, sir?" Joe asked gesturing the General to his side chair after he'd removed the papers stacked there.  
  
Barton sat down.  "Colonel.  I came here to offer a more personal impression of your brother's operation.  Are you interested?"  
  
"Yes, sir.  You know Rob, General?" Joe asked surprised.  
  
Barton laughed.  "In a manner of speaking, yes.  When I first met him, it was not what I would consider an amicable way to start any relationship.  You see, Colonel, about a year ago my plane was shot down.  I was captured and transferred to a POW camp for 'safe keeping'.  It was quite a propaganda coup for the Germans, capturing the commanding General of all daylight bombing.  At the time, I was not privy to the identity of any of our underground agents.  I knew them only by their code names.  The POW camp I was brought to was Stalag 13.  'The most secure spot in all of Germany.'  At least that was the rumor.  I wasn't there an hour before the Kommandant of the camp entered my cell followed by an American Colonel."    
  
Barton shook his head in rueful recollection.  "The first thing out of your brother's mouth was an accusation that I wasn't General Barton.  In hindsight now I know that his intentions were to procure my release from that maximum-security cell and into the prison proper.  Unfortunately, I didn't understand that, and I dressed him down pretty hard.  In my opinion, he appeared to be in collusion with his German captors.  There had never been a successful escape from that camp and the Kommandant called your brother 'understanding and cooperative.'  I called him a coward, a traitor and a disgrace to his uniform.  Then I told the Kommandant that I never wanted to see him again.  The German was only too happy to oblige and the two of them left."  
  
Joe Hogan interrupted, "If I know my brother, General. He wouldn't have been too happy about that."  
  
"Your brother had no choice but to take the verbal abuse. There was no chance for him to say anything further.  There were too many guards around me.  All he could have done was to give me that initial hint, and I was too blind and pigheaded to see it."  Barton sighed.  "From that point on, no one else approached me until almost two days later.  A General Burkhalter from the German General's Staff came to tell me that I was being exchange for Field Marshall von Heinke.  The funny part was that von Heinke was the one coming to take propaganda photos of me with my plane.  It seemed strange to me that von Heinke had been the one captured by British Commandos and taken back to London.  When I was released from my cell the next morning and waited for my transport to the exchange location, a British Corporal approached me.  He started telling me a story about Goldilocks and the Three Bears.  He told me that Hogan was like Papa Bear to the men in the camp, the father figure that they all looked up to."    
  
Barton shook his head in amazement still.  "I couldn't believe my ears.  I realized then that Hogan was Papa Bear and I owed my release to him.  The Kommandant arrived and sent the Corporal on his way.  I watched him cross the prison yard and noticed that Hogan was leaning against a building, surrounded by several other men.  I did the only thing I could.  I called for his attention and saluted him.  He came to attention and returned it.  I was then taken to an airstrip where a RAF plane waited for me.  It wasn't until I arrived back in London that I learned that HQ didn't have the foggiest idea how I was released.  Papa Bear had told them to send a plane for me and they did.  HQ knew nothing about von Heinke or any exchange.  Your brother had masterminded the whole exchange from that prison camp.  How he did it I'm still not sure.  But he's a genius and I owe him my life."  
  
Joe found himself staring at the General in disbelief.  It took him a moment to realize the General was through.  "I find this whole thing utterly unbelievable. Thank you for taking the time to tell me your story.  I'm glad that you were able to get out of Germany, sir," Joe said still a little shell-shocked.  
  
"I am as well.  I fully intend to speak with your brother when he returns to London.  However, in case I don't get a chance, can you just tell him thank you from me?  I know from the reports that I've read after my return that I was just one in a long line of escapes orchestrated by Papa Bear. I want him to know, regardless of what I said to him in that cell, that I applaud his efforts," Barton said.  
  
"Thank you, sir.  I will make sure to tell him," Joe replied.  
  
"Good.  Thank you."  Barton rose and left the office.  
  
_My big brother is a certifiable nut!  How the hell did you orchestrate an exchange of Generals?  Did you really kidnap a German Field Marshall in the middle of Germany?  How did you convince the man he wasn't in Germany any more?  For that matter how did you convince the German General Staff of that?!  Do I even want to know? Probably not.  
_  
**London, England, Allied High Command,   
Office of Colonel Joseph Hogan,  
April 23, 1945, 1400 Hours  
**  
Joe Hogan looked up from his desk when someone knocked on his door.  "Come in."  He stood hurriedly saluting. "General I wasn't expecting you."  
  
Simpson returned the officer's salute and gestured for him to sit down again.  "Hogan.  I wanted to know if you wanted to include a personal message in my response to your brother."  
  
"Thank you, sir.  I would very much like to do that.  Rob doesn't know our brother John is alive and home. The last we were able to tell him was that John was MIA," Joe replied grateful.  
  
"We'll have to code it, but I think we can manage to convey the message.  Anything else?"  Simpson asked.  
  
"Yes, sir.  Tell him everyone else is fine.  Anything else can wait till he returns to London," Joe replied.  
  
"Very good.  Would you like to accompany me to the radio room so you can assure we get the message right?" Simpson offered.  
  
"Yes, sir.  Thank you, sir," Joe replied standing again to accompany the General.  
  
The two of them walked into the radio room, two floors above Joseph Hogan's office.  Simpson wrote on a piece of paper and handed it to Joe.  "Sound okay to you?"  
  
Joe read the paper and nodded.  "Yes.  I'm sure he'll understand that.  Thank you very much."  
  
"Send this out immediately to Papa Bear, Lieutenant Patterson," Simpson ordered handing the message to the radio operator.  
  
"Yes, sir," Patterson replied immediately coding and sending the message out.  
  
_Mama Bear to Papa Bear. Airlift of personnel and cargo approved, awaiting your word on implementation. Personnel promotions approved, awaiting your list of grade increases.  Papa Bear's new assignment approved. Will discuss details of appointment upon arrival.  Message to Papa Bear.  Brother Joseph here, Brother John home, all is well.  Mama Bear out.  
_  
**Luft Stalag 13, Tunnel under Barracks Two,   
In the Radio Room,   
April 23, 1945, 1400 Hours  
  
**Kinch acknowledged the message, not believing what he'd heard.  _The Colonel is going to be so relieved._  Kinch knew that the Colonel had tried not to think about his last letter from home. The news of his brother being MIA had been a hard blow.  Kinch folded the message from London and stuck it in his pocket to bring to the Colonel, when he saw Corporal Duncan from Barracks Six walk by.    
  
"Duncan.  Can you go up to get the Colonel?  Ask him to come down here to see me," Kinch asked.  
  
"Sure, Kinch," Duncan replied immediately changing direction to climb the ladder leading up to Barracks Two.  
  
**_Within a few minutes…   
_**  
"What's up, Kinch?"  Hogan asked as he came into the radio room.  
  
"I just got this from London.  I thought you might want to read it down here," Kinch said handing the paper off to Hogan.  
  
Hogan read the message, grinning with each approval received.  As he read the final message to Papa Bear his face grew still.  Squeezing his eyes shut, he read it again.  The words stayed the same.  _John is okay.  Thank God!  The nine long months of not knowing are over. -- What the Hell was Joe doing in London? -- How does he know that I'm Papa Bear? -- Well I guess I'll know soon enough._  "Thanks, Kinch.  Would you acknowledge that for me and send along my thanks?"  
  
"Sure thing, Colonel.  I'm glad your brother made it," Kinch replied.  
  
"Me too," Hogan replied relieved, and watched as Kinch send out the message. After Kinch was finished with the message, Hogan said. "Kinch, please let the men know of the promotion orders.  Do not be specific, just that everyone assigned to our operation will be getting a promotion.  Also you can tell them that we have a confirmed ride home when the liberation Army passes us.  No mention is to be made of my appointment to Military Governor. I need to tell Klink, Schultz, and the underground first.  That appointment will have more effect on them than anyone else.  I'm going to talk to Klink and Schultz now.  Can you just let Doc Freiling know I will be by shortly with news?  Have him gather the underground leaders together."  
  
"Yes, sir," said Kinch.   
  
**Luft Stalag 13, Kommandant's Quarters,   
April 23, 1945, 1445 Hours  
**  
Hogan found both Klink and Schultz sitting in the living area, not talking.  "Good afternoon, gentlemen," Hogan said. "It's important that we talk.  I have a proposition to offer you both."  
  
Klink looked up bewildered and asked, "What kind of proposition ,Colonel?"  
  
"Yes. What kind of proposition?" asked Schultz with a sense of relief, knowing that Colonel Hogan would come up with something to bring about a solution to his and Colonel Klink's predicament.  
  
"You're both aware that I am not going to press charges against either of you.  I want you to realize that I understand your need to be held accountable.  I respect both of you for standing up for what you believe, especially when others in your country are running," Hogan said straightforwardly.  "But I feel that rotting away in some jail is not the best way for either of you to help your countrymen rebuild."  
  
"Hogan. Will you continue to manipulate us until the end?" Klink asked frustrated.  
  
"Listen, Colonel.  I'm sorry," Hogan said quietly.  "But, I haven't lied to you since the takeover. -- After the war, I will be in a position where I could use your help.  I'll be returning to Germany.  I told you before, that I'm not proud of everything I've done here. I also feel that I need to repay a debt to this society. Word has come from the Allied High Command that Germany will be split into 4 military zones. One each controlled by Russia, France, England and the United States.  I have lobbied the Allied High Command for a position in the Military Government.  My confirmation as Military Governor of the US controlled zone came today.  I want to offer you a position as a civilian liaison to the Military Government.  We can work together to rebuild your country."  
  
"That's impressive, Colonel," Klink said unbelieving. "Military Governor -- And you want me to help you? -- Please Hogan.  No more jokes.  What did you really come here for?"  
  
"Colonel Klink.  I am not lying to you," Hogan said angrily. "I'm offering you a chance to help your countrymen and still remain a free man.  If you still want to throw your life away, then so be it."    
  
Hogan turned his back to Klink and faced Schultz. "I need your help, Schultz. I've been thinking about that day you told Colonel Klink and I that the future is for the children.  Do you really believe that?  If so, I have a problem that I think you can help me with.  Interested?"  
  
"What problem, Colonel?" Schultz asked avoiding eye contact with Colonel Klink who was angrily staring at Hogan's back.  
  
"I have 24 orphans -- the 15 young men from Stalag 13 -- and a nun. All of who have no place to go after we evacuate this camp.  I would like you to take them with you.  I was hoping you could supply them with shelter in your family's toy factory.  I need for you to use part of your factory as an orphanage.  As Military Governor, I can support you, financially.  Sadly, my expectation is that your orphanage will continue to grow.  I'm sure there are very many children without homes.  Can I depend on you, Schultz?"   
  
Schultz looked past Colonel Hogan into Colonel Klink's face.  When he returned his gaze to Hogan he said, "Yes, Colonel, you can.  I can easily do as you ask."  
  
"Thanks, Schultz.  We can work out the specifics in the next few days.  I need to let the civilians know that you have agreed to take care of the youngsters."  Hogan reached out and for the first time offered his hand to Schultz in friendship, honestly.   
  
Schultz returned the handshake.    
  
Hogan headed for the door and was just about ready to leave, when he heard his name.  _Klink has hopefully come around to my way of thinking._ Hogan turned and said "Yes, Colonel?  What can I do for you?"  
  
"Hogan.  Are you serious about wanting my help?" Klink asked perplexed. "Why?  Surely there are many other people more qualified."   
  
"Listen, Colonel," Hogan began in earnest.  "I spent three years in your Stalag.  In all that time, not once did you forsake the camp for your own benefit.  You were able to keep the Stalag running through some lean times.  That's the person I want to help me.  There is much planning to do, to bring about the restoration of your country.  Can I count on you?"  
  
After a long moment Klink answered, "Yes, Colonel, you can."  
  
"Fantastic," said Hogan again extending his hand in friendship.  Klink returned the handshake. "Again.  We can work out the specifics in the next few days."  
  
Hogan headed for the door again and stopped. Turning back to both men he said, "You both should be fitted for civilians clothes and papers. When you're ready just come to Barracks Two." Hogan paused thinking. "That reminds me – Schultz, your family is in Heidelberg, correct?" Schultz nodded. "Good, you and your family should be all set.  Colonel Klink, you once mentioned your family was in Leipzig. Is that still the case?"  
  
"Yes," said Klink evenly.  
  
"Colonel.  I suggest that once the liberation Army has passed this camp, you return to Leipzig and move your family back here.  Leipzig will be in the Russian controlled zone.  Your family would be better off in any of the other Allied controlled zones.  You should have time, before the final authority is leveled."  
  
Klink nodded.  "And what of you, Colonel?  How can we be sure you will return?" Klink asked.  
  
"I can only offer you my word, Colonel.  I expect that I will return in two to three months," Hogan said. "My appointment to Military Governor has been confirmed.  But I need to return to London.  I will need to run through a gambit of debriefings, as well as assisting my men with their reintroduction to life outside Stalag 13.  The only thing that will hamper my return will be if I require more surgery.  Doc Freiling is concerned that additional bone fragments, from the facial fractures, could cause more problems for me in the future." Meeting the German Colonel's eyes he said, "I will be back, Colonel.  I have the same need, as you, to be accountable for my actions."  
  
Hogan opened the door and said as he left, "We'll talk again.  Right now, I need to talk to the civilian underground.  Good day, gentlemen."  
  
**_Hogan headed over to the civilian compound…   
_**  
Doc Freiling saw him coming and signaled for the other men to assemble. When Hogan reached them, they all entered the Recreation Hall together.  "Good afternoon, gentlemen.  I have something important I need to discuss with you.  First of all, I wanted to let you know that I plan on returning to Germany after the war.  I will expect to continue working closely with each of you.  This time though, to help you rebuild.  You see. Word has come from the Allied High Command that Germany will be split into 4 military zones. One each controlled by Russia, France, England, and the United States.  I just received confirmation of my appointment to Military Governor of the US controlled zone.    
  
Hogan paused, hoping that his next statement wouldn't cause an uproar. "I also want you to know that I've promised Kommandant Klink a civilian position in the military government."  Hogan waited a beat, to see what the assembled men would say. _Nothing. Good._  I've also found a place where the orphans with Sister Mary Nelson, as well as the young guards from Stalag 13, can go.  Sergeant Schultz has agreed to use part of his family's toy factory as an orphanage.  He will open it to all children that need a refuge."  
  
Hogan looked around at the assembled faces.  They all appeared rather subdued.  "Is there something wrong, gentlemen?" Hogan asked.  
  
Doc Freiling looked around at the faces of his fellow civilians, "Colonel, forgive us.  But in your succinct way, you just told us that everything we've fought for is gone.  We wanted to bring Germany together, not have it split into pieces." He sighed. "Though I guess we should be lucky that anything will be left at all.  I believe, that I say for all of us, Colonel, that your appointment to Military Governor will help ease the transition of our country.  We've learned to trust your judgment, and we will continue to do so."  
  
"Thank you.  Could you please spread the word to Sister Mary Nelson, as well as the young men from Stalag 13?  We can work out the specifics in the next few days. Good day, gentlemen," Hogan replied.   
  
Hogan left the recreation hall and re-entered the compound.  Word must have gotten around.  The POWs were very loud and rowdy. As he traversed the compound, he received many a salute, as well as lots of smiles.  _It's good to see. We still have a way to go, but the end is in sight. Thank God._  He also noticed a rather fierce game of volleyball being played. He would have to talk to Killian.  He had hoped not to deal with any additional injuries to his men. As he approached though, he couldn't help but notice that all the men were having a great time.  _I guess I won't interfere.  Their morale is more important than any worry of a sports injury.   
_  
Hogan entered Barracks Two and found Kinch, LeBeau, Newkirk, and Carter.  They appear to have been waiting for him. "What's up, guys? Is there a problem?" Hogan asked noticing a little apprehension from the four men.  
  
"No problem, Colonel. We wanted to thank you personally for the promotions. -- And well -- We've all had time to think about the plans we have for after the war. We wanted to tell you, so you can know where we stand, sir," Kinch said formally.  
  
"Of course, gentleman. Relax. This doesn't have to be anything so formal. I may be the Senior Officer here, but I feel you guys have become like family to me.  I would love to hear what you have planned." _LeBeau - French restaurant, Newkirk - pub, Carter - chemistry teacher, Kinch - military.  I guess I'll see if I was right.  
_  
Kinch began first. "I will be staying in the military, Colonel.  I believe it's the best decision for me at this time." Kinch saluted. Hogan returned the salute, and indicted to Kinch that he would recommend him for any posting he desired.  Hogan turned to look at the additional three men, not knowing who was to go next.   
  
LeBeau came forward. "Colonel Hogan.  I will not be re-enlisting, sir.  I want to return to Paris and become a chef. Maybe open my own restaurant. Start a family." LeBeau also saluted. Hogan return the salute and told LeBeau that he'd better be invited to opening night of that restaurant.  Hogan became silent, waiting.   
  
Newkirk came forward next. "Colonel.  My plans are similar to LeBeau's. I will not be re-enlisting.  I want to go back to London, spend time with my family. Maybe take some back pay and open a Pub."  Hogan told Newkirk not to open his Pub the same day as LeBeau's restaurant.  He expected to be there opening night as well.  Newkirk saluted and Hogan returned it.  Hogan then turned to Carter.  
  
Carter said sheepishly, "Colonel Hogan. I will be returning to the States.  I had planned to work towards a teaching degree in chemistry.  I think I would be better suited to teaching or maybe working in the field of research, than any additional military posting."  Hogan indicated he was expecting soon to see Carter's name in print, the designer of some new technology. He told him, not to forget the little people when that happened. Carter then saluted and Hogan returned it.  
  
The four men were quiet, waiting for a response from Hogan. "Well gentleman.  I wish you all the best of luck.  I never expected to be having mixed emotions about the end of this war.  I know we are all relieved that it's almost over.  But that means, once we walk out those gates, the friendships we've made here can never be the same.  No one else is ever going to understand or believe what we did here.  For that reason, I'm sorry to see this end.  I certainly will never disregard the contributions that each of you made to the success of this operation.  But I do expect that you will be as successful in your future endeavors as we were here.  If I can help you in any way, do not hesitate to ask." _Whoa Hogan... keep your emotions in-check._  Hogan reached out and shook each man's hand and then headed into his quarters.   
  
"Oh bloody hell," said Newkirk as he plunked down at the table.   
  
"You can say that again," said Carter as he sat on his bunk.  
  
"Oui. Oui," agreed LeBeau as he sat on the bunk next to Carter.  
  
"Come on, guys.  I'm sure the Colonel is happy for us.  He wouldn't want to keep us from our futures," Kinch said.  
  
"Yeah, sure.  That's easy for you to say.  You're the only one staying in the family business," Carter said rather glum.  Everyone looked at Carter dumbfounded.  For once, he had made some sense.  It just finally started to hit home.  The Colonel was right; they had become a family.  And in just a few weeks, everything that they had known for over three years would no longer exist.  
  
**Luft Stalag 13, Kommandant's Office,   
April 26, 1945, 1000 Hours  
**  
Hogan had spent the better part of the last two days, creating promotion orders by using the POWs Stalag 13 paperwork.  He'd only made it through half of the POWs.  It would take another two days to finish.  Other than that, he had spent the last two days tying up loose ends.  
  
Doc Freiling had stopped in earlier this morning, announcing that today was the end of his check-ups and the end of the medication.  The Doc had also told him to continue to wear the eye patch, but that he would agree to let him remove it when he was on his way back to London.  Hogan's vision was now merely blurry, certainly not the kaleidoscope of lights that he had experienced previously.  He was still encountering difficulty with sleeping, but that was not a concern unless it continued for several nights.  He had thanked the doctor, relieved that he was no longer required to allow the doctor to poke, prod and lecture him.   
  
The POWs had stripped the tunnels of anything usable and had distributed the materials to the civilians in camp.  The only thing still functioning in the tunnels now was the radio.  Kinch would dismantle that on the last day.  The rest of the camp was being given the same treatment, Carter wasn't sure the buildings would survive the tunnels being blown.  Anything remotely usable somewhere else was being removed.  
  
There was also a team of men retrieving all of the various items, which had been retrieved from the Gestapo headquarters bombing, which had been stored for safekeeping.  Those items were being returned to their previous owners.  Along with those items were the things that they had picked up in their three years of operation. Hogan would personally turn over the gold bars that had been stolen back from the Germans after the Nazi's had stolen them from France.  There were many other things being packaged up to be turned over to London as well.  After three years they had quite a haul of booty.  He was going to have to be careful how he explained how they had acquired some of these things.  
  
Klink had been given new civilian identity papers.  He was going to head to Leipzig for his family, as soon as the liberation Army passed.  He had tried to contact them via the phone, but was not able to make contact. The plan was for him to take one of the trucks from camp and move as much stuff as possible from his family's home.  Doc Freiling offered him and his family a place to stay during the transition.   
  
Schultz had been able to contact his family.  They had seemed amenable to anything that Schultz had asked.  His plan was also to leave as soon as the liberation Army passed by. Everyone going with him had been supplied with civilian paperwork.  He was going to need two trucks and supplies. Sergeant Marlow was working to get that stuff ready.  
  
The local civilian contingent would move out on the same day.  They would be allowed to use the trucks, but the trucks would have to be returned so his men could have transportation to the nearest airfield. It was only expected to take a short period of time to move the civilians. The underground group, Canary, was offered the Stalag 13 staff car to get them back where they belonged.  
  
Hogan also needed to get rid of the Germans heading to the Nuremberg War Crimes Tribunal.  Birmingham and Killian would lead that troop, but he still needed to touch base with Major Tonioli.  He wanted Major Tonioli and his men to assist in the move, since they were supposed to 'officially' capture Goering.  
  
Then all that would be left would be evacuating Stalag 13 and imploding the tunnels.    
  
**_As Hogan's thoughts focused on the last day…  
_**  
Kinch entered the Kommandant's office and asked, "Colonel, can I talk to you please?"  
  
"Sure, Kinch.  What can I do for you?" Hogan asked.  
  
"I have a problem, sir.  I've been thinking about my next posting. As I see it I don't have much choice. I expect the posting will be to the segregated force.  It would certainly be a command of my own.  But I know I will feel somewhat restricted.  I had not ever felt that race was an issue under your command.  But in that posting, it will be all that I know.  I will find it very hard to deal with," Kinch said.  
  
"I've had the same thoughts myself, but I didn't want to influence your decision in any way.  You certainly deserve a command of your own.  You've proven that to me, many many times.  I know I've pushed most of the men here beyond what I should have legitimately expected.  And that goes doubly for you.  If you want me to, I will put you in for a command position, not within the segregated forces.  And I will stand behind that recommendation."   
  
Hogan paused and looked away from Kinch.  When he returned his gaze he said,  "On a more selfish note, there will always be a position for you with me.  I would relish the chance to continue our working relationship.  But that position will only make you my aide.  You deserve much more than that."  
  
"Thank you, Colonel.  I was hoping you would offer me a position.  I put a lot of thought into both possible command positions you mentioned. In either case, race would always be an issue.  I would prefer to work in a position where my abilities outweigh my racial background.  I already know that's true under your command.  I would gladly accept a posting with you, sir," Kinch admitted.  
  
"Then it's decided then.  Thanks, Kinch.  I'd be proud to have you as my aide.  But, you have to promise me, that when the day comes and you want to move on, you let me know. I don't ever want to hold you back.  Agreed?" Hogan said extending his hand to Kinch.  
  
"Agreed," answered Kinch grasping Hogan's hand in return.  
  
"Great. So now that that's decided… how about helping your commanding officer wade through this paperwork?" asked Hogan.  
  
"Sure, Colonel.  You don't waste anytime, do you?" Kinch asked with a grin as he sat down with Hogan and helped him organize the balance of the paperwork.    
  
**London, England, Allied Headquarters,   
General Simpson's Office,   
May 1, 1945, 0800 Hours**  
  
General Simpson had received official confirmation of the massacre of SS soldiers at the concentration camp, Dachau, late last night.  These were the troops that were to liberate the POWs at Stalag 13.  He would have to let Hogan know.  Hogan had a lot of German civilians as well as some VIP German prisoners in camp with him.  If Simpson knew one thing about Hogan, it was that he would not take kindly to these troops moving in and taking over.  Hogan took his duty seriously and would not want any trigger-happy soldiers in his camp.    
  
"Major Kimmel," ordered Simpson. "Relay this message to Papa Bear."  Simpson handed Kimmel a piece of paper with a scribbled message.  
  
_Mama Bear to Papa Bear. The US 7th Army was responsible for the massacre of SS soldiers at concentration camp, Dachau, on April 30th.  These are the troops expected to liberate Stalag 13.  The projected arrival at Stalag 13 is 7 to 10 days.  Take any and all precautions to ensure safety of your German guests.  Will relay message to US 7th Army that Stalag 13 is secure and that their orders will come from you.  Mama Bear out.  
_  
"Then.  Send this message to Colonel Triplet, US 7th Army, Company A," Simpson ordered handing over another piece of paper.  
  
_Allied High Command to Triplet, Colonel, Commander Company A. There is a POW camp located outside small town of Hammelburg Germany, 2500 POWs. Stalag 13 has remained intact.  POWs have gained control of camp.  They are awaiting your forces.  Senior POW Officer relayed that the camp is secure.  Upon your arrival, you are to obey orders of Senior POW Officer.  This is not open to interpretation.  Senior POW Officer has final authority.  Allied High Command out.  
_  
"Yes, sir.  Right away, sir," Kimmel replied, starting to leave but turned back questioning, "Do you really think Stalag 13 is in danger, General?"   
  
"I just don't know, Major," said Simpson shaking his head.  "I just don't know.  But at least Hogan will know now and can take precautions.  Let's just hope that Hogan can come up with one more crazy scheme to deal with the approaching forces."  
  
"Yes, sir.  Let's hope," Kimmel replied and left the office.  
  
**Luft Stalag 13, Compound,   
May 1, 1945, 1000 Hours  
**  
Hogan had called a camp assembly for this morning, after having received word of Adolph Hitler and Eva Braun's suicides late last night.  He wanted to let everyone know, but wasn't sure what their reactions would be.  He was certainly not upset that that maniacal monster was no longer on this earth.  But Hitler had gotten to take the easy way out.  Hogan would have enjoyed seeing him sweat under the scrutiny of the War Crimes Tribunal.  
  
Right before the assembly, though, Hogan had received some more disturbing news about the treatment of German POWs by American troops.  The US 7th Army had just liberated the concentration camp Dachau two days earlier.  They had also massacred the SS guards in the camp after they had surrendered.  _Why more Goddamn death?_  Hogan now had a bigger problem, because it was indeed the US 7th Army that was due to liberate Stalag 13.  Hogan knew he would have to take extreme measures to keep everyone safe.  
  
He reported the news to the assembly.  Their reactions to Hitler's suicide were what he expected, mixed cheers and jeers.  He then repeated the news of the US 7th Army tragedy and re-iterated that he would not let anything like that happen here.  Hogan promised to let everyone know more specific details when the time came.   
  
**London, England, Fieldstone US Army Airbase,   
Command Center Board Room,   
May 2, 1945, 1000 Hours  
**  
Fieldstone's Commanding General, Douglas Creighton was meeting with his command staff, as well as officers in charge of the medical facility.  He had received word from Allied High Command that his base should expect an influx of 2500 POWs very soon.  His cargo planes would be sent in two shifts, over two days, to retrieve these POWs from a prison camp in Hammelburg Germany.  The rescue operation would need to happen immediately following the US 7th Army's liberation of the camp, which was expected in the next couple of weeks.  This was one of the only POW camps that had remained intact.  Most others had been disbanded and the POWs forced to march for long periods of time until they just happen to run into an Allied patrol.  He had heard horror stories about the health conditions of these POWs, very many requiring a lot of medical help.  _Poor bastards._    
  
Creighton was determined to make sure Fieldstone was prepared for this many men all at once. "So ladies and gentlemen.  That's the story.  Are we prepared to handle this many POWs, many of whom could be in very poor condition?" Creighton asked.  
  
His second in command, Colonel Stephen Wright replied, "In terms of housing, feeding, clothing and delousing, we can handle it.  My men will clear out a hanger deck of planes.  The men will have to sleep on cots, sir, but we have plenty of room. We have enough personnel to confirm the identities all these men.  We have enough food to feed them and enough clothing as well."  
  
Colonel Rodney Ballister, the head of the Medical Division interjected,  "General.  You said there would be two shifts, six planes returning the first day and five additional the next day. The first ten planes will carry the majority of the POWs. The last cargo plane will carry our security force, as well as the Senior POW Officer and his staff.  Is that true?" Ballister asked.  
  
"Yes, Colonel," replied the General. "Is there a problem?"  
  
"No, sir.  I just wanted some information about the scheduled return of these planes. I need to know how much time we have between each one.  Each plane holds around 250 men.  Correct?" Ballister asked.  
  
Major Michael Sears, the Flight Squadron Commander replied, "Colonel.  The information that I received from Allied High Command said that we've been ordered to land at an airfield in Wurzburg, Germany.  This airfield is 30 miles from the POW camp. The Senior POW Officer has informed Allied High Command that he will be able to move five truckloads of men at a time to the airfield. The five truckloads will only be able to carry enough men for one cargo plane.  So there will be eleven round trip truckloads between the camp and the airfield.  I was informed that the last cargo plane to leave would also be carrying some very important cargo.  Once it arrives at the airbase, the cargo is to be secured until a team of officers from Allied High Command comes to retrieve it.  But, in answer to your question, the total estimated time between flights would be 2-3 hours."  
  
"Does that give you enough time, Ballister?" asked Creighton.  
  
"I hope so, sir.  But we need to discuss procedure," Ballister responded.  
  
"Go ahead, Colonel," said Creighton.  
  
"Yes, sir.  For the most seriously injured men, they should be immediately transferred to the base hospital.  We will have a triage area set up.  I will have, as many people as I can pull double shifts, sir.  I just don't know what to expect, sir," Ballister said.  
  
"Very good, Colonel.  We need to be ready for the worst-case scenario.  I'm sure the heaviest influx of seriously injured will come first.  I can't imagine the Senior POW Officer not transferring them first. -- Continue Colonel," Creighton said.  
  
Ballister continued, "For any 'mobile' POW, the first step in the process should be identification then delousing.  I recommend burning all POW clothing.  They can then be given new clothes and then moved to the hospital triage area.  Is that going to be a problem Colonel Wright?  Can you handle the destruction of the clothing as well?"  
  
"No problem, Colonel Ballister.  We can handle it," replied Colonel Wright.   
  
"Great. Thanks, Colonel," Ballister said. "Once at the hospital, I will have a large staff available to measure height, weight, temperature and all other vital signs. We will need to collect blood, urine and stool samples as well as administering a tuberculoses test.  My staff and I also feel that each man should also be given a tetanus shot as well as a dose of antibiotics as a preventative.  We feel, that this process will help us separate out those that need the most medical care.  At that point, a more thorough physical will need to take place, but will be done in order of need. So while we conduct the full medical exams, the men could get something to eat, and get some rest.    
  
"Is that acceptable, Colonel Wright?" asked Creighton.  
  
"Yes, sir, General.  I don't expect too much trouble.  We have a lot of setup work to do. But, most everything should be ready for these men when they arrive," answered Wright.  
  
Ballister interjected, "General. Except for the full medical exams, I think we can handle 250 in the 2+ hours, we have between planes."  
  
Major Michael Sears also piped in.  "General.  My men are ready as well. I don't foresee any problems.  With the security force at the airfield, we should be able to be in and out quickly."  
  
"Very good, Gentlemen.  Let's bring them home.  Dismissed," Creighton ordered.  
  
"Yes, sir," replied the three officers in unison, as they got up to leave.  
  
**Luft Stalag 13, Compound,   
May 5, 1945, 1300 Hours  
**  
Hogan sat, leaning against the side of the barracks, in the bright afternoon sunshine.  Though he still wore the eye patch, the rest of his injuries had faded to annoying twinges easily ignored.  Occasionally he glanced across the compound.  There was a lively volleyball game going on between the children in the camp.  Many of his men and the civilians in camp were coaching the game from the sidelines. Many of the children, too young to play in the formal volleyball game, were playing tag between the prison barracks. They were all making a happy roar.  When this game was over, the net would be raised and the adults would begin their game.  It was all part of the activities he was sponsoring to keep everyone occupied while they waited for the Allied forces to come and officially liberate the camp.  He smiled.  _The Inter-Barracks-Age Volleyball Tournament is a huge success.  Still the waiting is hard.  
_  
The last report he had received, two days ago, placed the US 7th Army merely 60 miles from the camp.  He expected they were not meeting up with too much opposition and would be advancing rapidly.  So far as he knew London had relayed to the commander that this camp was secured.  He thought they would arrive within a few days.  He wanted everyone in camp out of sight when they arrived.  These were the men that had liberated Dachau.  What they'd done there was something he didn't want repeated here.    
  
And just yesterday there had been a long column of men marching by.  They were the remains of some German division or other.  Everyone in camp had watched them pass warily.  But they weren't interested in a prison camp, nor did they apparently notice that there wasn't a German guard in sight.  Hogan had let them pass, as they weren't heading toward the front, but away from the action.  Apparently they were retreating and he was willing to let them go by.  Had they been heading the other way, he would have had to come up with a way to stop them.  
  
Hogan glanced back to the middle of the compound in time to see the final point of the children's game.  Many of the young men playing were former camp guards here.  They had nowhere to go and had not left the camp.  Hogan hoped that when the time came and they all abandoned Stalag 13, there would be places for all of the displaced children he had here.  It was going to be a tall order, but he hoped Schultz would be able to carry through the plans he had.  _If anyone is capable of taking care of all of these kids and finding them homes, it will be our big hearted, toy maker from Heidelberg.  
_  
As Hogan continued to watch, some of the adults made sure the kids had water and were walking around to cool off.  The compound grew more crowded as people came out from their quarters.  Today's game was between barrack twelve and twenty.  It promised to be a lively match, both teams had defeated three other barracks and the winner would face barrack one tomorrow.  _The Semi-Finals._  He wondered what he was going to do if the finals took place and they were still here. _Waiting.  Well I'll just have to think of something else to occupy the population.  
_  
Hogan leaned back again against the barrack's wall, not really interested in watching the game.  He just wanted to catch a nap in the sun.  Since he'd given up on taking the sedatives his sleep had been sporadic.  Some nights he was simply unable to sleep, and others he slept like a log.  Last night had been one of the sleepless ones.  He now had a headache, but he was sure it was from being overtired, as it certainly didn't feel like the pounding he'd experienced with the infection and its resulting hematoma.  _Still if it doesn't go away, I'll have to tell the Doc.  
_  
**_From across the compound…  
_**  
Newkirk was watching the game with interest.  When the Colonel had suggested the organized tournament he had instantly created a book for it.  And the betting was fierce.  People were enthusiastically supporting the tourny. He stood to make some serious cash.  The men were betting money now, the end was so near and most of the camp population had been here for a long time.  The back pay they were all due would be a nice tidy sum of money.  Besides there was nothing left in camp to be bet, everything was now in the camp stores for the good of everyone.  The action of the game caused him to look across the compound and he frowned when he noticed the Colonel, apparently asleep on the bench outside of the barracks.  _That's odd.  I've never known the Colonel to do that.  
_  
Newkirk turned to Kinch who was standing next to him.  "Is he okay?" he asked very concerned nodding his chin towards the Colonel.  
  
"I think so," Kinch replied.    
  
Newkirk glared at Kinch.  Hogan had tried to keep everyone in the dark regarding his medical condition, and now, even with the doctor's assurance that the Colonel was out of danger, the fear still remained.  
  
"No really, Newkirk," Kinch said after Newkirk shot him a look.  "The Doc stopped his sedatives, and is weaning him off of the other medications.  I think he's simply having some trouble adjusting.  It's a pleasant day today.  There's nothing really to do.  He's just taking a nap in the sun."  
  
"Okay, mate.  I believe you," Newkirk replied.  "It's just…"  
  
"I know, Peter," Kinch replied.  "He scared me too."  
  
**Luft Stalag 13, Barracks Two,   
May 6, 1945, 1300 Hours  
**  
Major Tonioli looked up from the seat he had taken while visiting his two wounded men still in the camp infirmary.  Doctor Freiling was a fine doctor, and had worked hard at ensuring their recoveries.  They were both going to be fine, but due to space limitations they were allowed to stay where they were.    
  
"Major," Sergeant Carter said coming into the room.  "Colonel Hogan wants to speak with you. Do you have a moment?"  
  
"Certainly, Sergeant," Tonioli replied rising.  "Peterson.  Miller.  Take it easy.  I'll be back later."  
  
"Yes, sir," the two wounded men replied.  
  
Tonioli followed the young Sergeant across the prison compound to Barracks Two.  He again was absolutely amazed at what the men here, prisoners all, had created right in the middle of Germany, well behind enemy lines for most of the war.  He had talked with many men here and had the utmost respect for the Colonel Hogan_.  It was such an incredible idea and the operation was nothing short of fantastic.  
_  
"The Colonel's in his office," Carter told him opening the door to the barracks.  "He's expecting you.  Go on in."  
  
Tonioli rapped on the door with his knuckles, as he opened the door.  "Colonel Hogan. You wanted to see me, sir?"  
  
Hogan turned from his open window. "Yes, Major. Please take a seat."  
  
Tonioli sat on the stool at the officer's desk.    
  
"I wanted to tell you what I have planned for the Reischsmarschall.  Since you and your men were dropped to secure Goering, I want you to say that you had indeed captured the man.  The operation here at Stalag 13 and my role in it must remain a secret.  The story will be that London, knowing we were secure, ordered you to come here to imprison him in our cooler.  You were to remain here until the occupying force passed us by," Hogan instructed.  
  
"Are you sure, Colonel?" Tonioli questioned.  "You should receive credit for your accomplishments here."  
  
"Major, as POWs, there should have been no way that we could have captured Reischsmarschall Goering.  That was your job and one that you accomplished.  Besides Major, the people that count know what we did here.  It's enough," Hogan replied.  
  
"If that's the way you want it, Colonel, I will do as you say," replied Major Tonioli.  
  
"Good.  General Birmingham and Major Killian will go along with you and your men as escorts for the 29 German prisoners.  You should have no problems ensuring their safe arrival to your destination," Hogan said offering his hand. "Good luck, Major."  
  
Tonioli shook the hand offered.  "Thank you, sir.  It's been an inspiration being here."   
  
After the Major left, Hogan stood looking at his closed door.  _This war is really ending. We're almost there.  Just have to hold on a little longer.   
_  
**Luft Stalag 13, Barracks Two,   
May 7, 1945, 2322 Hours            
**  
Hogan had gone to bed over an hour before, but Kinch had just received a message that the Colonel needed to know about.  Kinch knocked on the Colonel's door and entered even though he had not received an answer.  Hogan's room was dark, so Kinch turned on the light, which immediately woke General Birmingham.  
  
"What is it?"  Birmingham asked blinking in the sudden light, leaning up on one elbow in the top bunk.  
  
"Message from London for the Colonel," Kinch replied bending over to wake Hogan.  
  
"What?" Hogan asked waking slowly to Kinch's light touch.  "What's the matter?"  
  
"Message from London," Kinch said handing out the very important blue slip of paper.  If Hogan didn't want it, he was going to take it home and frame it on his wall.  
  
Hogan took the paper and angled it into the light to read.  _My God.  It's really over!_  Hogan looked up and caught Kinch's eyes and grinned.  "Finally! I was beginning to think we were caught in an endless loop and this would never come."  
  
Kinch laughed.    
  
"What's it say?" Birmingham demanded leaning over to look at Hogan.  
  
"The Armistice has been signed.  All German forces will unconditionally surrender tomorrow morning at 0800," Hogan said grinning.  "The war will officially be over tomorrow morning."  
  
Kyle cheered.  
  
"Exactly," Hogan replied.  "Kinch, I'll tell this barracks now.  I'll tell the rest of the camp tomorrow.  We'll call an assembly and celebrate at 0800."  
  
Kinch grinned broadly and waited for Hogan to dress. Kyle followed them out of the office and into the barracks proper.  
  
"May I have everyone's attention please," Hogan said entering the barracks.  Many of the men were already asleep, but it didn't take long before everyone was awake and listening.  "Kinch just received word from London. Gentlemen.  The day we've all fought so hard for is upon us.  As of 0800 tomorrow all German National forces will unconditionally surrender. The war is over.  Now we need only wait for the US 7th Army to pass us."  
  
The barracks rang with excited and relieved cheers.  LeBeau and Newkirk put several bottles of champagne on the table and all the cups they had.  Soon everyone held a splash of champagne.  
  
Hogan raised his glass high.  "Gentlemen.  You did a damned fine job.  Thank you."  
  
"Salud," the men echoed.    
  
Kinch raised his glass.  "Sir.  I speak for all of us.  We couldn't have done this without you.  So truthfully the thanks are ours.  You gave all of us hope when we shouldn't have had any.  For more than three years we've been here, fighting with you, and following your lead.  You did a damned fine job ,sir.  We just helped out."  
  
"Exactly," LeBeau echoed to the enthusiastic response from the men.  
  
Hogan, his eyes damp, thanked the men again and drank the rest of his champagne.  _What a group of men I have here!_  
  
The men broke into smaller groups, each trying to out due the other on what they'd do as soon as they got back to London.  
  
"I'm going to take you all 'round the ole' town mates," Newkirk was telling the Colonel, LeBeau, Carter and Kinch.  "We'll do the whole thing.  I know some dames who'll be just pleased as punch to show us all a great time!"  
  
"Sure an' when we're done there.  We'll go to Paris!" LeBeau replied his eyes wide with excitement as he described the city to his friends.  
  
"Sounds great, fellas," Hogan said finally. _God, I'm tired._  "I'm going back to bed.  You guys make the plans.  We'll do them when we get back to London."  
  
Newkirk stared after Hogan. "What's the matter?" he demanded of Kinch.  "'e should be dancing in the aisle."  
  
Kinch sighed thinking of the packet of papers Doc Freiling had given him.  "He still needs surgery, Peter," Kinch replied.  "All the antibiotics did was buy him time."  
  
"What!" Carter protested his voice breaking.  "The Doc said he was out of danger!"  
  
"He is Andrew.  He's not in danger of suddenly dying, but the underlying cause is still present.  It could flare up again, and he'd be back at square one.  The surgery he needs is more reconstructive.  It should involve removing any floating bone fragments that caused his initial difficulties, and then he should be fine."  
  
"Why didn't you tell us?" LeBeau demanded.  "We thought he was going to be fine."  
  
"He will be fine.  But he doesn't want anyone to know," Kinch told his friends.  "Not even me.  I only know because the Doc gave me a copy of the medical report he wrote for the Colonel to take to London with him.  The Doc was concerned that the Colonel would not disclose all of his medical difficulties, so I have a copy as well.  The Colonel doesn't know that I have it either.  You all know how stubborn he's been over this whole thing.  It's a back-up plan to ensure he gets the proper care in London."  
  
**Luft Stalag 13, Barracks two,   
May 8, 1945, 0800 Hours            
**  
The assembly bell rang at five minutes before eight.  Hogan stood in the compound waiting, along with his entire staff, as well as Klink and Schultz.  The two men had taken the news of Germany's surrender well.  They'd had over a week since the fall of Berlin to prepare for it.  It had been only a matter of time until the news came.  
  
Hogan let everyone settle in.  The silence was complete.  The attention of every person in camp was on him.  
  
"As of 0800 today, one minute from now, all German National forces will unconditionally surrender.  The war is over," Hogan proclaimed.  
  
The camp went insane.  Complete pandemonium reigned for most of the morning.  Hogan did nothing to quell the celebrations.  They had all earned the right to run amok for a few hours.  He did however go to the cooler and inform his three prisoners that Germany had surrendered and they'd gone from being POWs to war criminals.  
  
**Luft Stalag 13, Barracks Two,   
May 8, 1945, 1615 Hours  
**  
"They're about ten miles from here," reported Heinrich Dieter, a farmer that held property just outside of Hammelburg.  "Young Pieter saw them coming from the ridge.  He ran back to the house and we packed up and came here, per your orders, Colonel.  They didn't see us and we brought what we had left.  I figured that that army would eat my remaining stock anyway.  It might as well feed us."  
  
"Good.  We appreciate it, Heinrich," Hogan replied.  "Make your family as comfortable as possible.  I don't imagine you will have to stay here for too long."  
  
"Thank you, Colonel," Heinrich replied leaving the barracks and heading towards the large building where all of his fellow civilian underground members were being housed.  The Stalag was as bad as he thought it was going to be, but he knew that his family was safer here, than at home facing an invading army.  His respect for the American Colonel rose to higher levels upon seeing what he and his men had lived in for the past three years.  He didn't know if he would have been able to stay here voluntarily, when there was an easy, dependable route out of the country.  
  
**_After having watched Heinrich Dieter leave…  
_**  
Hogan turned to Kinch and said, "All right, Kinch. That means our forces will probably be here tomorrow.  We'll call assembly tonight.  I want to talk to the whole camp."  
  
"What time?" Kinch asked.  
  
Hogan looked at his watch. "Sound the bell in a half-hour.  I'll go now and talk with Klink and Schultz," he replied rising.  
  
"I'll have Newkirk sound the bell," Kinch replied grinning.  _The end is almost here! I can't believe that soon we will be returning to England, and ultimately home.  
_  
Hogan nodded and headed over to the Kommandant's quarters.  As he walked across the compound he was glad to see the afternoon's volleyball game had ended.  There was only one game left in the series, the finals.  Hopefully, if tomorrow went smoothly, the afternoon game could take place as scheduled.  And perhaps, with the food Heinrich brought with him he could host a feast in celebration, of both the volleyball championship winners and the end of their long internment here at Stalag 13.  He smiled to himself.  _Some folks will say that I knew when the Allies would arrive, and had timed the volleyball tournament to coincide.  But really it was just a happy accident.  
  
_He knocked on Klink's door, entering when he heard a slightly muffled, "Come in."  
  
"Who won the game?" Hogan asked as he entered Klink's quarters.  
  
Klink smiled.  "Barracks twelve.  This was a great idea you had to keep the camp occupied."  
  
"The last three weeks, would have been almost impossible to get through without something for everyone to be involved in," Hogan replied with a smile.  "But the wait is over.  I believe that the Allies will be here tomorrow.  I just had a farmer come in to report the troops were ten miles from Hammelburg.  They'll get to us, before the town."  
  
"Tomorrow," Klink repeated swallowing hard, still nervous about what he and Hogan had concocted.  Hogan had kept nothing from him, including what this invading force had done at the last camp they had liberated.  
  
"You can still change your mind," Hogan told Klink.  "I certainly won't think any less of you or Schultz.  You still retain the option to leave this camp."  
  
"No.  I've made my choice, as has Schultz.  We will see this to the end," Klink replied.  "I will no longer run and hide.  Not from myself, and certainly not from my responsibilities."  
  
Hogan nodded, not expecting Klink to leave at this late date, but he had felt he should give the man one last chance to change his mind.  "The bell should ring for assembly shortly.  I plan on informing the camp of the imminent arrival of the Allied Forces."  
  
Klink rose and stated evenly, "I assume you will be taking some precautions."  
  
"Yes.  I am fairly certain that the commander of this force is aware that Stalag 13 is secure.  We asked London to relay that information, but I do have some measures in mind to keep everyone in camp as safe as I can," Hogan replied, shaking his head.  "I can't believe I have to take these measures to protect my people from my own 'friendly' forces."  
  
"You should be thankful, Colonel, that these measures to be taken are not the norm. In the German army you could never trust anyone. That was a normal fact of life," Klink replied.    
  
"I know, Colonel, but I just don't understand it," Hogan replied as the bell went to ringing, calling for the assembly.  "That's it.  Colonel, after you."  
  
Klink gave him a slight smile and shrugging on a light jacket led the way outside.  All the men hurried to their places.  This was the third assembly called since the fall of Berlin when Hogan had released some of his German prisoners.  They had all been told to obey the summons should Hogan need to inform the camp of any new developments.  
  
Hogan gave everyone a few moments to settle into place.  "Thanks for falling in.  The latest news is the Allied liberating force should arrive here tomorrow.  The last report put them ten miles from Hammelburg, seven miles from us."  The camp exploded into bedlam as the population celebrated what would be the end of Stalag 13's existence.  Hogan allowed several minutes to go by before he held up his hands to quell the celebration.   
  
Finally silence reigned again and Hogan continued, "Yes.  This is actually the end for us.  But we must remember what these men did at Dachau.  I don't want a repeat performance here.  The next time the assembly bell rings you are all to return to your quarters immediately.  No one will be in the compound tomorrow when the Allies arrive.  The German POWs are to be confined to their quarters, starting after their morning roll call.  I don't want any accidents."    
  
Hogan paused glancing around the compound and the varied population the camp supported now.  His gaze lingered on some of the littlest children, standing next to their parents.  "If everything goes smoothly tomorrow, the finals will take place as scheduled in the afternoon.  May the best team win! After assembly I want to meet with my staff and Sergeant Hart.  Dismissed."  
  
Hogan led the way into Barracks Two and motioned the assembled men to take a seat around the table.  "Kinch I want four men on gate duty along with the four of you.  When the force arrives, Kinch, LeBeau, Newkirk and Carter will meet them at the gate.  You will allow the commander of the force and two of his aides to enter the camp on foot and unarmed.  If the commander gives you problems, I will come out and enforce that order myself.  You will bring them to Klink's office where myself, Kyle, Killian and Tonioli will be waiting," he ordered.    
  
Then Hogan turned to Sergeant Hart.  Hart had led the team of snipers outside of camp during the take over.  The man knew about all sorts of places nearby that could be utilized by a stationary sentry to cover the entire area.  "Sergeant Hart, I want you to take a team of men outside the wire tomorrow beginning at 0500 to watch for them.  I want to know before they get here, that they're on the road.  Have your men watch for advanced scouts.  Nobody gets by.  Radio the camp with an estimated time of arrival so that we'll be ready for them."  
  
"Yes, sir," Hart replied.  "Will do."  
  
"Good. Does anyone have any questions?"  Hogan asked.    
  
His men shook their heads.    
  
"All right then.  I'm going over to the cooler to inform our three prisoners that their ride leaves tomorrow."  
  
**Hammelburg, Germany,   
On the Road outside of Town,   
May 8, 1945, 1900 Hours  
**  
Colonel William Triplet, the commander of Company A, part of the US 7th Army, glanced at his watch.  They hadn't gone ten miles today.  Wurzburg had required a lot of time.  He had to leave a squad in charge of the city.  They had to chase down several German officers who were organizing the cities defenses.  It hadn't really taken long to secure the city, but it had delayed their advance by almost a full day.  After they had secured Wurzburg they had been notified that as of 0800 this morning the German Forces had unconditionally surrendered.  The war was over.  Now they only needed to push through the country to Berlin.  They were now approaching the Hammelburg area.  He was looking forward to this, there was a POW camp outside of Hammelburg and he was anxious to reach it and free those men.  After Dachau and the horror they had found there, he was afraid that the POW camp would have been kept in the same conditions.  But two days out from Dachau they had been notified that this camp, Luft Stalag 13, was secure and the men there just waiting for the front lines to go by them.  London had also ordered him to follow the instructions given by the Senior POW Officer in that camp.  He wasn't exactly sure what that really meant, but he figured he'd find that out soon enough.  
  
Triplet grabbed the roll bar in front of him as the jeep he was riding in plowed through a massive rut in the road. It looked like a partially repaired shell hole.  "Keep this bucket on the road, Sergeant," he demanded.  
  
"I'm trying, sir.  The road is badly damaged," Sergeant Steve Henney replied struggling with the wheel.    
  
Finally they reached a smoother part of road.  Triplet looked back, his force was strung out for over a mile on the road behind him.  They had less than two hours of daylight left.  "We should be hooking up with our scouts shortly, Sergeant.  Keep an eye out for them."  
  
"Yes, sir," Henney replied.  
  
A mile down the road Henney stopped the jeep when two figures stepped into the road.  They were his men, a Captain John Sullivan and Lieutenant Peter Stoner.    
  
"How does it look, Captain?" Colonel Triplet asked the leader of his scout team.    
  
"Looks good.  We're in the clear for five miles around.  We're ten miles out from Hammelburg, sir," Sullivan reported.   
  
"Did you find the POW camp we were told to look out for?" Triplet asked.  
  
"No, sir.  It's mostly farm country here.  We think that the camp is hidden in the hills," Sullivan reported.  "I have two men searching for it."  
  
"Very good, Captain.  Did you locate a good place for us to bivouac for the night?" Triplet asked.  
  
"There's a field about a mile from here.  It's fallow land. Probably belongs to the farmer who lived about two clicks from here.  There doesn't appear to be anyone living there now though," Sullivan replied.  
  
"Good, Captain.  There didn't happen to be some livestock we could liberate for the stew pots?" Triplet asked looking forward to something fresh.  The rations were getting tiring.  
  
"No, sir.  There doesn't appear to be anything left.  The place looked well ransacked," Sullivan replied.  
  
"All right then.  Lead the way," Triplet ordered disappointed.  
  
**On the Hammelburg Road,   
May 9, 1945, 0730 Hours  
**  
"The camp is about a mile down a dirt road off of this one," Captain Sullivan reported.  "It looks deserted though."  
  
"We were told the camp was secured," Triplet protested.  "Are you sure, Captain?"  
  
"My men reported no activity at all.  They did hear a bell being rung, but that could have come from somewhere else.  The camp is completely devoid of life.  No one at all in sight," Sullivan reported.  
  
"Well we might as well go and check it out," Triplet ordered.  "Perhaps something happened after they reported to London they were secure.  This area was firmly in German hands until the Armistice was signed.  I felt it was odd that this camp reported itself secure."  
  
**_Just ten minutes later…   
_**  
Triplet sighed, as Company A approached the closed barbed wire gates of the prison. It looked much like the camp structure of Dachau, only this was a POW camp.  Perhaps friends of his, or that of his men had been held here.  He could only pray that what went on at Dachau had not happened here.  He couldn't face seeing corpses stacked like firewood again.  When his jeep finally came to a stop, he was surprised when eight men appeared at the gates.  He wondered where they'd been hiding.  
  
"Who is in charge of this force?" a Negro Staff Sergeant asked.  
  
"I am," Triplet replied.  "Colonel William Triplet of Company A of the Seventh Army."  
  
"What are your orders regarding this camp, Colonel?" Kinch asked.  
  
"We've received word that you're secure and waiting for us," Triplet replied still not seeing another soul in camp besides these eight men.  
  
"That is correct, Colonel," Kinch confirmed.  "Our orders are to let you and two of your aides into camp.  You are to enter on foot and unarmed."  
  
"I don't understand.  Who gave these orders, Sergeant?!" Triplet demanded.  _I'll be damned if I'm gonna enter a potentially dangerous situation unarmed!  
_  
"General Robert Hogan.  The Senior POW Officer here," Kinch replied.  "So Colonel.  Choose your two men and follow us."  
  
"Sir!" Major Kenneth Dunn protested.  "You can't seriously consider doing that!"  
  
"We were told to follow the instructions given here Major," Triplet reminded his executive officer.  "We speculated on exactly what that would entail, though I didn't expect to be told to walk in there unarmed."  
  
"We're secure," Kinch pointed out to the Colonel.  
  
"But these orders are insane!" Dunn continued to protest, ignoring the Negro Sergeant.  "How do we know they're telling the truth?  We could be walking right into a trap."  
  
"The war is over," Triplet pointed out.  
  
"Yes, sir," Dunn agreed.  "But do they know that, sir?"  
  
"Yes," Kinch replied.  "We do realize the war is over.  As I said, we're secure here.  Make up your mind Colonel.  We don't really have all day."  
  
"Major.  You and Captain Sullivan are with me," Triplet ordered getting out of the jeep, unbuckling his side arm.  "Captain Graham.  You're in charge while I'm gone."  
  
"Yes, sir," Graham replied.  "What are your orders?"  
  
"Sit tight.  Don't do anything unless you're absolutely sure of the situation.  Whoever this General Hogan is, he's being very cautious about our presence here.  I don't know why, but stay on your toes," Triplet ordered.  
  
"Yes, sir," Graham acknowledged.  
  
Triplet, Dunn and Sullivan approached the barbed wire gates.  One of the eight men swung open one side to admit them.  The gate was secured behind them.  They were searched.  Triplet glowered at the Sergeant.  
  
"This way, gentlemen," Kinch said ignoring the irritated look Colonel Triplet shot him.  He led the way across the yard towards one of the larger buildings.    
  
Triplet didn't say anything as three of the men flanked them with one bringing up the year.  Four men stayed at the gates.  For some reason, they weren't taking any chances.  They climbed the few steps to the building, entering directly into a vacant office, and passing through it into another office where several men waited.  Seated behind the desk was a two-star American General, standing to either side of him was a one-star General and a Major, off to one side stood another Major.   
  
"Colonel William Triplet, sir," Kinch said preceding the men into the office.  "Commander in charge of Company A of the Seventh Army.  Colonel.  General Robert Hogan."  
  
The General at the desk looked a little worse for wear.  He wore an eye patch and Triplet could see what appeared to be the remains of bruises on his face.  His face overall was gaunt. Triplet moved to the front of the desk and offered the superior officer a salute.  
  
"At ease, Colonel," Hogan said standing to return the salute and quickly introduced the officers in the room with him. "This is General Birmingham, Majors Killian and Tonioli."  
  
"What is going on here, sir?" Triplet asked, never expecting to be confronted with two Generals, certainly not a 2-star.  _Most Generals were exchanged as a matter of course.  
_  
"This camp is secure and has been since the Russians engaged Berlin.  I have several prisoners here for you to officially take charge of.  After that formality, I want you and your force to move on.  General Birmingham, Majors Killian and Tonioli will move the prisoners to their destination.  You may send some of your own staff with them if you feel it is necessary, but General Birmingham will be in charge of the detail," Hogan said.  
  
"Begging your pardon, sir, I don't understand your attitude.  I expected that the men in this camp would be happy to see us," Triplet said somewhat confused.  
  
"Colonel, we are delighted to see what you represent.  Once you pass us, we're free to go home.  I have London standing by to airlift my men and I out of here.  What I don't like is what you've already done.  I know what some of your men did at Dachau," Hogan replied bluntly.  
  
Triplet shivered.  "You weren't there, General.  You didn't see that place."    
  
"No," Hogan agreed.  "I was not present with your invading force.  I, however, have been there while it was still functioning.  I know what you found there, but that doesn't change anything.  You and your men will not be allowed the opportunity to repeat your actions here."  
  
"Is there a reason that we should?" Triplet asked. "What my men and I saw, well it pushed several of the men over the edge.  It was horrible."    
  
"Colonel.  The war was about stopping Hitler's dominion of the world.  His hold on Germany and its occupied countries was nothing short of barbaric.  I understand your reaction, but to me you and your men descended to the depths of deprivation commonly practiced in Nazi Germany.  It's what I've spent the last five years fighting against.  I can't understand how you let yourselves get to that point," Hogan replied seating himself again at Klink's desk.  "And in answer to your earlier question, no there is no reason for you to repeat your actions.  This camp is secure, the Germans who remain here are prisoners, and will be accorded the rights of prisoners."  
  
"You seem awful sure of your facts, sir," Triplet replied irritated.   
  
"I am very sure," Hogan replied.  "So, Colonel.  Here is a list of prisoners who I will be turning over to you."  
  
Triplet reached out and took the proffered piece of paper.  He scanned the names figuring that the men listed would be the Kommandant and guards of this camp.  His jaw dropped as he read the bottom two names.  "You have Reischsmarschall Goering and a General from the German General Staff here!?"  
  
"Yes.  They are both being held in this camp's cooler.  They've been guests here for a few weeks now.  Major Tonioli was dropped along with a commando team to capture the Reischsmarschall.  Once they had secured the man, London told them to come here to keep him safe.  London knew we were already secure here.  It was the best place to keep him.  Burkhalter arrived here a few days after our take over, and we captured him to keep ourselves safe.  Burkhalter was the commanding General for this camp.  He came here often," Hogan explained.  "All told you are to officially take charge of 29 men."  
  
"But Goering!" Triplet repeated totally amazed.  "The man responsible for Dachau!"  
  
"And other camps equally as vile," Hogan agreed.  "General Birmingham will see to it that all of these prisoners reach their trial alive.  There will be no vigilante justice practiced here."  
  
"The man should be taken out and shot," Triplet said with conviction.  
  
"Perhaps.  But neither of us have the authority to do such a thing," Hogan replied calmly, thinking to himself that the Colonel was kind to refer to the Reischsmarschall as a man, when he didn't think that Goering even qualified as a human being.  "The war crimes tribunal has been set up in Nuremberg.  It is to there that General Birmingham and his men will see the 29 prisoners."  
  
"You appear to have things well in hand here," Triplet said finally.  
  
"Yes, Colonel.  I do," Hogan agreed.  "One of your officers will be escorted back to your men at the gate. Sergeant Carter and Corporal LeBeau will escort your man," gesturing to his two men. "Your men are to stand down. You, Colonel Triplet, will come with me.  I'll have my men transfer the prisoners to the two trucks we'll use.  The trucks have been gassed and serviced and are ready to go out.  We've been sitting here waiting for your arrival for three weeks."  
  
Triplet sent Captain Sullivan back to report to Captain Graham and followed the 2-star General outside.  The prison yard was still devoid of any life.  "Where is everyone?" Triplet asked the strange quiet of the camp getting to him.  
  
"Everyone is holed up in the barracks," Hogan replied.  "I told you.  I would allow no deviations to my plans.  You and your men will move on after you are finished here."  
  
"General.  I hope you don't mind that I ask to see your camp.  After the last several camps we've liberated, I need to see that your men are alive.  I've seen too many instances where the bodies were stacked too damned high," Triplet said, hoping the General was going to take that request well.  
  
Hogan sighed.  He could understand the Colonel's reluctance to take him at his word.  If it had been him, he would have asked for the same thing. Dachau at the end was probably hideous.  While it was still functioning as a concentration camp it had been horrible, with the end so near he was sure most of the camp was put to death.  
  
"All right Colonel.  I understand why you've asked that.  I'll give you a tour.  While I will not show you the entire camp, you will see that the men here are alive and mostly healthy," Hogan replied and spent time showing the Colonel through three different barracks.  
  
Triplet was reassured when he was shown through the camp's barracks.  They were crowded with men, but the men were alive and in decent shape.  Many had cheered, excited to see him.  That had relieved him even more than the General's reassurances.  These men were happy to see him, but were obeying the orders of their commander.  _That I can understand.  
_  
Once back in the compound Hogan said, "I hope that satisfied you.  I'll release the prisoners to you, then you and your men can leave the camp."  
  
"I was hoping for a safe place to bivouac tonight, and maybe a meal that hasn't come from a ration packet," Triplet protested.  
  
"That won't be here, Colonel," Hogan replied.  "The Armistice has been signed, effective yesterday morning at 0800.  You shouldn't have any difficulties.  As to your rations, you're lucky to have 'em.  I'm feeding close to 3,000 on vermin infested, nearly spoiled food."  
  
**_As they approached the cooler building…  
_**  
Kinch, who had preceded the officers to the cooler, opened the gate of the chain link fence that surrounded the building.  The men assigned to guard their prisoners opened the door to the building and met them.  
  
"Major Tonioli.  Gather your men and bring the two trucks here," Hogan ordered.  
  
"Yes, sir," Tonioli replied saluting and then turned to go to the motor pool.  His men were waiting there.  Within moments he was back with his original team of seven commandos, the three wounded, from his team, would return to London with Hogan.  There would be 10 of them to guard the prisoners, including himself, General Birmingham and Major Tonioli.  
  
"Kinch.  Bring the three prisoners out here. Leave the Reischsmarschall till last," Hogan ordered.  
  
"Yes, sir," Kinch replied entering the cooler with seven men from the trucks, along with the cooler guards.  Hogan had ordered three men per prisoner.  The prisoners would be shackled, and locked in place once seated in the trucks.  He wanted no mistakes made.  
  
Major Kalb almost needed to be carried from his cell.  The man was really a pathetic example of humanity.  General Burkhalter walked to the truck with some dignity.  He'd lost weight during his month in the cooler.  Reischsmarschall Goering struggled in his chains, shouting obscenities.    
  
After a particularly vile sentence Hogan walked over, motioning for the guards to hold him tighter. "One more word from you and I will order you gagged for the journey," Hogan informed the prisoner in German. "Understand?"  
  
Goering spat at him, shouting incoherently.  
  
"Gag him," Hogan ordered still in German.  The guards holding Goering maintained their position while two more men approached and affixed the gag to the prisoner.  "You were warned, Reischsmarschall," Hogan said, turning to Birmingham. "You really should have someone with you who understands German Kyle.  As you can see, I had warned him to quiet down. He did not comply, so I had him gagged.  I told him that it was for the entire journey.  That, of course, is entirely up to you.  He has a very foul mouth on him," Hogan said.  
  
Birmingham replied, "Don't worry. We'll make do.  It's only three days to Nuremberg anyway."  
  
"As you wish.  I'm willing to send a volunteer along who speaks German," Hogan offered again.    
  
Kyle had already turned his offer down once, feeling that all of Hogan's men deserved to return to England as soon as possible. "No thanks, Rob.  As I said, we'll make do," Birmingham replied.  "Major Killian.  Why don't you see to the comfort of the rest of our 'guests'."  
  
"Yes, sir," Killian replied motioning for the cooler guards to help him and the seven commandos load the Camp 19 prisoners from the German compound.  The loading went uneventful, and very shortly all of the prisoners were secured in the trucks.  
  
"Your men are ready to go.  Just like that?" Triplet asked amazed.  
  
"As I said earlier, Colonel.  We've been sitting here for awhile waiting for you, plenty of time to organize this exodus of our prisoners," Hogan replied.  "Are you sending anyone along with my escort?"   
  
"Yes, sir.  I'll assign three men to your transport," Triplet replied.  
  
"Do you have a man you can send that understands and speaks German?" Hogan asked.  "The Reischsmarschall is a very opinionated bastard, and doesn't speak English willingly."  
  
"Yes, sir.  I believe I can assign a man who speaks German," Triplet replied.  "Permission to leave the camp to see to this?"  
  
"Go ahead.  Kinch, you're his escort.  Take Newkirk with you," Hogan ordered.  
  
"Yes, sir," Kinch replied motioning for Triplet to precede them. "Colonel.  After you."  
  
Hogan turned back to Birmingham, offering his hand saying, "I guess this is it, Kyle.  It isn't likely we'll run into each other again any time soon."  
  
Birmingham shook the offered hand.  "You're probably right, Rob.  I won't say I'll miss the accommodations, but I want you to know that I admire greatly what you've forged here.  I couldn't have done this.  You've earned those two stars you're wearing today.  Wear them proudly."  
  
"Thank you, Kyle.  Though I didn't do anything someone else in my position wouldn't have done," Hogan protested.  
  
"Robert Hogan.  I don't understand you. You created this.  You are Papa Bear.  Who else would have thought of staying in this pigsty to help others?  I've been here long enough to realize who was firmly in control here.  Your men would follow you anywhere, even with you being half-dead and beaten to a pulp.  Hell, even the German guards in this camp accorded you more respect than I've seen from some of our Allied troops to their own commanders.  You have every right to be proud of your accomplishments here. Your ability to hold onto your beliefs only proves your humanity and courage," Kyle Birmingham said.  He'd learned the lesson that Rob had tried to teach him.  There were no black and white sides to anything.  Everything was a shade of gray and one had to find a comfortable niche.  It was why he was now escorting two truckloads of German prisoners to their trials.  
  
Hogan ducked his head embarrassed.  He didn't feel he'd done anything that someone else couldn't have done given the same situation.  "Thanks, Kyle."  
  
"We're all set to go," Killian said as he and Tonioli came over to where the two Generals stood saying goodbye.  
  
"Excellent," Hogan replied turning to face the three men.  "Gentlemen.  I wish you all a safe journey."  
  
The three of them straightened and saluted.    
  
"Rob.  I hope your return to civilization is uneventful.  Take care of yourself," Birmingham said.  
  
"Thanks, Kyle.  I will," Hogan replied.  
  
Colonel Triplet returned at that point with three men.  "These men are Lieutenants Peter Lapuc, Michael Walsh and Corporal Allan Smith.  Corporal Smith speaks German.  I've briefed them."  
  
"Good.  Welcome gentlemen. Let's get on the road then," Birmingham ordered.  "Corporal, if you would please ride in the first truck it would be appreciated."  
  
Birmingham saluted Hogan again after the rest of the men had found places in the trucks.    
  
"God speed, Kyle," Hogan said returning the salute and watched as Birmingham got in the truck and the two trucks left the camp.  "Colonel.  I don't want to keep you.  You've an appointment with destiny in Berlin."    
  
Triplet also straightened, saluted and then left camp taking his invading force on down the road.    
  
Hogan nodded towards LeBeau and Carter and both men headed toward the mess hall to finish preparing the feast for later on.  With the food that Dieter had brought with him, they would all have a decent meal tonight.  Tomorrow would see a return to the tasteless and formless slop that they'd been eating for weeks now.  But, just a few more days and they would all leave Stalag 13 for good. _39 men are gone, just a little less than 2700 more to go.   
_  
Hogan stood watching as the last of the trucks disappeared in the direction of Hammelburg.  When the last of them were gone Hogan turned to Newkirk and Kinch who were standing next to him. "Newkirk.  Sound the all clear.  We've got a game to host and a feast to prepare. Inform the men the game will commence at 1500 Hours.  Kinch.  Radio London.  Find out when we can begin the airlift to get everyone home."  
  
"Yes, sir!" both men enthusiastically replied moving off in different directions.   
  
**London, England, Allied High Command,   
May 9, 1945, 1300 Hours  
**  
_Papa Bear to Mama Bear. Company A, Seventh Army, Colonel William Triplet, commanding, passed through our sector this morning at 0730.  Colonel Triplet officially charged with the capture of Reischsmarschall Hermann Goering, General Albert Burkhalter, Major Otto Kalb and 26 other German military personnel.  General Kyle Birmingham assigned to escort the prisoners to Nuremberg Germany to face the War Crimes Tribunals. Request date and time of requested airlift of all personnel and cargo.  Standing by. Papa Bear.  
_  
General Simpson read the message that was handed to him by Major Kimmel.  "Major.  Let's bring them home.  Inform Papa Bear that we'll send the first squadron, from Fieldstone, for 0800 Hours, May 11th.  We should have everyone back in London by the 12th.  Let them know that we'll confirm the men's identities on the runway.  They will be getting new uniforms. Then we'll make sure everyone gets the medical assistance they need.  Once we've got the roster created we'll send the men to base housing, as well as supply them with a decent meal.  Then we can begin debriefing them."  
  
"Yes, sir," Kimmel replied.  "I'll send that out right away."  
  
"Also.  Inform Colonel Joseph Hogan that the first planes will land on the 11th," General Simpson continued.  
  
"Yes, sir," Kimmel acknowledged leaving the general's office.  _Damn.  This is almost over.  Papa Bear and his men are the last major members of London's web of agents to come back.   
_  
**London, England, Allied Headquarters,   
Office of Colonel Joseph Hogan,   
May 9, 1945, 1330 Hours            
**  
Joseph Hogan watched Major Kimmel as he left his office after telling him that his brother Rob and his men would be returning starting the 11th of May. _That is certainly most welcome news.  But if I know my brother, Rob will be the last too leave, which will get him to London on the 12th._ Joe was told that there would be a medical quarantine at the airbase.  How long… depended on the condition of the POWs.  After that, Joe would be able to see his brother.  
  
Joe had been keeping busy with a heavy load of debriefings, since his arrival on the 23rd of April. After the shock of that first day, he had settled in nicely.  He had tried to keep his mind on business, but it was difficult when all he really wanted to do was see his brother.  Joe couldn't believe that he hadn't seen Rob for close to four and half years, after adding up all his flight time as well as the time in the POW camp.  Joe couldn't wait to see him.  
  
Luckily, Joe had been able to get through to his family in the States.  Joe had told them that Rob was alive, but still being held in Germany.  He couldn't tell them much more than that, but 'alive' covered the most important question they had.  He told them as soon as Rob was safely in London, he would contact them again.  
  
Joe sat quietly contemplating what he would say to his big brother when he saw him.  _Most assuredly a great big bear hug is in order.  I'll have to tell him about John.  I'll have to tell him about little Stephen.  Hell I should bring the pictures I have with me.  Rob even missed Sue's wedding, and Mom and Dad's 40th wedding anniversary.  There is just so much stuff I need to say to him.   
_  
_Stay safe Rob. There's only three more days to go.  
_  
**London, England, Fieldstone US Army Airbase,   
General Creighton's Office,   
May 9, 1945, 1400 Hours  
**  
Colonel Stephen Wright was in the General's office when the official word came in to rescue the POWs.  _It's about time. _ His preparations had been ready for days now.  As soon as that first plane lands at 1200 Hours on the 11th, his men could hit the ground running and get these men settled.   
  
Allied High Command said that according to the Senior Officer, the POWs were in decent condition.  He was glad to hear that, as that should make this process go faster.  The sooner they get all the medical stuff out of the way, the quicker those men can relax, get something to eat, and get some sleep.   
  
**_Elsewhere on base, Hanger Bay Twelve…  
_**  
Major Michael Sears had just gotten final confirmation of his orders to pick up the POWs.  They had a departure time of 0500 Hours on the 11th, which would put them on the ground in Wurzburg by 0800 Hours. The Senior POW Officer said that he, along with his first group of POWs, would be waiting for them when they arrived.  He had asked that some of the security troops take over driving the trucks, because he didn't want his men over-worked.  And also that he just couldn't ask any of his men to turn around and come back to camp, when they were that close to a ride home.  The Senior POW Officer would then return with the trucks to camp, supplying the directions and would be the last to leave the camp, with his staff, when the time came.   
  
Major Sears' men were now on full alert.  He would be leading 6 cargo planes for the first day and the same crews, less one, would be returning the next day.  There only are 5 planes necessary for the second day of this mission:  He checked their flight schedule.  
  
Day 1                      departure London 5:00 am,                arrival Germany 8:00am - MPs  
Day 1      1st                 departure Germany 9:00am,   arrival London 12:00pm - POWs  
Day 1      2nd                departure Germany 11:00am, arrival London 2:00pm - POWs  
Day 1      3rd.                departure Germany 1:00pm,   arrival London 4:00pm - POWs  
Day 1      4th                 departure Germany 3:00pm,   arrival London 6:00pm - POWs  
Day 1      5th                 departure Germany 4:00pm,   arrival London 8:00pm - POWs  
Day 1      6th                 departure Germany 7:00pm,   arrival London 10:00pm - POWs  
  
Day 2                      departure London 5:00 am,                 arrival Germany 8:00am - EMPTY  
Day 2      1st                 departure Germany 9:00 am,          arrival London 12:00pm - POWs  
Day 2      2nd                departure Germany 11:00 am,          arrival London 2:00pm - POWs  
Day 2      3rd.                departure Germany 1:00 pm,          arrival London 4:00pm - POWs  
Day 2      4th                 departure Germany 3:00 pm,          arrival London 6:00pm - POWs  
Day 2      5th                 departure Germany 4:00 pm,          arrival London 8:00pm - POWs, MPs Cargo  
  
**_Still elsewhere on base, the Medical Facility…   
_**  
Colonel Rodney Ballister was just getting off the phone with General Creighton.  He was to expect his first POWs here at Fieldstone by 1200 Hours on the 11th.  General Creighton had gotten word that most of these POWs were relatively healthy.  No major life threatening issues.  A few were recovering from gunshot wounds, but _recovering_ was the all-important word.   
  
Ballister knew to expect men who were undernourished and pathetically thin.  He just hoped that when their German captors left camp, they hadn't taken it out on the POWs.  According to the Senior POW Officer, that hadn't been the case.  
  
General Creighton still did not want to relax the medical emergency status until they could see for themselves that these men were okay.  Ballister whole-heartedly agreed.  His people would be ready for anything.  It would be a pleasant surprise if these men were in decent shape.  
  
**Luft Stalag 13, Tunnel under Barracks Two,   
Radio Room,   
May 9, 1945, 1430 Hours  
**  
Kinch handed Hogan the clipboard with the message he'd just decoded from London.  
  
"Not till the 11th.  Hmm," Hogan said a little disappointed.  _Another two or three days in this dump.  Oh well.  We've stood it this long, a few more days isn't going to kill any of us._  "Acknowledge this, Kinch.  I'll inform the first group of men when they're leaving tonight at the feast," Hogan looked at his watch.  "It's almost time for the final game. I imagine all of our civilian guests will be leaving us tomorrow."  
  
"Yes, sir," Kinch replied already tapping at his key.  
  
Hogan exited the barracks and made his way across the compound.  The sun was shinning, and it was really a beautiful day.  The net was already in place and many people were already around the area, jostling for good places to view the action.  Tantalizing aromas were coming from the mess hall promising of delights yet to come.  It was the first time in his memory that the aromas coming from that building smelled like food.  
  
Hogan glanced at his watch, still ten minutes before the game started.  He walked over towards the game area, thinking about what he was going to say when he started this game.    
  
At 1500, he walked to the center of the court and held up his hand for quiet.  "Good afternoon, folks. I wanted to take the time here to talk to everyone, because after the game we're going to be enjoying a fine meal.  And no one would want to listen to me while there's real food to be had!"    
  
The camp laughed.    
  
"This is the last game in the series, it's also the last full day here for some of us.  All of our civilian friends will be leaving tomorrow."    
  
Hogan paused as the camp erupted into cheers and applause.    
  
"We started these games as a way to pass the time as we sat here waiting for this day to arrive.  This is truly the end.  We've all worked so hard to get here, and lost many of our friends and family along the way.  I'm proud to have known all of you, your convictions and beliefs have made this operation a success. We did a good job here.  Thank you, one and all!"   
  
The camp again erupted into rowdy cheers.  
  
When they quieted again Hogan continued, "May the best team win! Let the game begin!"  
  
**_The game lasted almost two hours…  
_**  
And the camp was loud and supportive, but finally it was team 20 who came out on top, winning the final game by only two points.  Hogan had watched the game with interest, not necessarily the play, but the population.  For those two hours everyone forgot where he or she was.  The game was the only thing they were thinking of.  It had turned out to be a great way to occupy the camp. He was glad to see that everyone could enjoy the game and relax.  The tension they had all lived under for years at a time was finally over with.  
  
**_And then after the feast…  
_**  
Hogan walked around the compound alone as the camp was slowly going to sleep.  _I can't believe this is the end. -- The end of the war. -- The end of being a POW -- The end of my command. -- No more lies to tell. -- No more death and destruction.  This is the end of the only existence I've known for over three years.  I could quit, resign, and go home.  No one would blame me. But I can't.  I have to come back here and help to rebuild.  Build where before all I've done was destroy.    
_  
**Luft Stalag 13, Colonel Hogan's Quarters,   
May 10, 1945, 0700 Hours  
**  
Kinch knocked on the Colonel's door, a little surprised that the Colonel hadn't yet come out this morning.  At Hogan's 'come', Kinch opened the door.  "Colonel.  The first of the trucks will be leaving in an hour," Kinch reported.    
  
Hogan was dressed, but seated at his desk writing.  Looking up he said, "Thanks, Kinch. How many trucks are scheduled to leave at that time?"  
  
"The three trucks bringing the locals back home, and Canary will be leaving with the staff car," Kinch replied.  "Klink said he'd be leaving about 0900 and Schultz and his two trucks will be leaving then as well.  The first three trucks should be back in camp by 1400."  
  
"Okay.  Let's go on over and see how things are going and say our good-byes," Hogan said standing and grabbing his cap.    
  
Many of his men were helping the civilians pack and get organized.  There were six men assigned to ferry the locals back to their homes.  Hogan and Kinch mingled with the crowd.  Hogan made sure he spoke to everyone, including the children.  They had all been in camp almost a month and he had spent time with all of them at one point or another.  He had reiterated to them, that he still planned on returning and that he expected to see them all again in a few months time.    
  
Doc Freiling was the last man he approached.  
  
"Well, son. I guess this is goodbye then," Freiling said reaching out to shake the American's hand firmly.    
  
"No.  It's only auf Wiedersehen.  I'm coming back," Hogan replied pulling the older man into a bear hug.  "I'll see you soon.  There is too much work to be done here."  
  
Freiling smiled broadly, thumping Hogan on the back.  "Ja.  That is true."  
  
Hogan released him.  "Thanks, Doc.  For everything."  
  
"You're welcome, Colonel.  Or is that perhaps… General?" Freiling asked a grin tugging at his lips.  
  
"Perhaps it will be General the next time you see me.  But I would be happier if you called me son," Hogan replied with a broad smile.  
  
"Then I will," Freiling said pleased.  He turned to get into the truck behind him, paused and turned back to Hogan.  "You will see a doctor in London. Won't you?"  
  
"You never give up.  Do you, Doc?" Hogan asked with a sigh.  
  
"Nein.  Never.  I want a full accounting when next you and I meet," Freiling replied with a wicked grin.  
  
Hogan patted his breast pocket.  "I'm carrying your notes with me.  I promise that I will give them to the doctor in London."  
  
"Gut.  Auf Wiedersehen then," Freiling replied raising his hand in parting.   
  
Hogan waved along with the rest of his men as the three trucks left the camp.  _80 more gone from camp.  A little less than 2600 people to go._ Hogan stood in the compound till he couldn't see the trucks any longer, then he turned back to the activity behind him.  _In a little less than an hour, Klink and Schultz will also be leaving.  Once they're gone the only people that will be left in the camp are my men and the Camp 19 POWs.    
_  
Schultz detached himself from supervising the loading of the trucks to go with him.  "Can I speak with you Colonel Hogan?"   
  
"Certainly, Schultz.  Here or somewhere more private?" Hogan replied immediately.  Somehow during the past few weeks he had not had much time to speak with Schultz.   
  
"Somewhere private would be appreciated, Colonel," Schultz replied.  
  
Hogan led the way to his office and closed the door to his quarters as he followed the old guard into the room.  "What is it, Schultz?" Hogan asked seating himself on his bunk, and leaving the stool for the bigger man.  
  
"I wanted to take the time to explain myself to you, Colonel Hogan.  I know that Colonel Klink has already told you of his choices.  But I have not shared mine with you.  It was too difficult to say in front of him.  I don't know if he would ever forgive me, should he discover the truth."   
  
Schultz paused and shook his head.  "I knew what you were doing here.  It could have made a huge difference had I ever reported your activities," Schultz began and then sighed deeply.  "Colonel.  I am an old man. Perhaps not in years, as I am only 55, but in experience.  I fought in the trenches in the first war and when I returned home I took over my father's business, a toy factory.  Even then the company was large and well respected.  We had money. We had influence, in our town, in our country and even the surrounding countries as well.  But the unrest within Germany never eased between the two wars.  It got progressively worse.  Then Hitler came into power and I watched as whole families disappeared over night.  I was afraid, so quietly my wife and I began to gather children from those at the greatest risk.  I provided shelter and food.  My factory was large and situated on its own property, fenced all around with many outbuildings.  It was not difficult, at first.  I provided jobs for others, who would have been taken as vagrants.  My brother Franz also worked in the factory as a toy designer and he helped as well.  We were very successful until the unthinkable happened, and I was drafted again."   
  
Schultz was quiet for a long moment.  "The factory was seized by the government and they converted it to make guns.  Franz and my family hastily moved as many as they could and continued to work towards saving our country one person at a time.  Franz was not drafted as he lost a hand to an accident as a child.  I was posted here and overall it was a lucky posting for me.  I had enough of war and bloodshed to last a lifetime already.  Here I could be safe and pass the war in peace.  No one would look twice at me, and my relationship to the company. My family should be overlooked, even though the Gestapo was suspicious of them.  I was careful to draw no attention to myself."  
  
"Then I came here," Hogan said softly, his respect for Schultz had gone up immeasurably.    
  
"Ja.  Then you came here, with your crazy monkey business," Schultz began sarcastically. "Should you have been discovered, it could have been the death of my family and me as well.  I did what I could.  Therefore I saw nothing and knew nothing.  You were fighting against Hitler in another fashion altogether.  In a way I was not capable of.  But I helped in any way I could.  Therefore I 'unknowingly' carried messages for you.  I ignored everything that happened here.  You kept me safe and I kept you safe."  Schultz sighed again, he looked like he'd aged five years during his story.  
  
"I'm sorry, Schultz.  I had no idea I was putting so much at risk," Hogan apologized.  "I knew there was a way out for German civilians in Heidelberg.  We even provided aide occasionally to them.  I didn't know it was your family."  
  
"No.  Neither did I know that the aide that they got sometimes was from you.  I would thank you for that.  Many times if it wasn't for your contacts they would have been caught," Schultz replied.  
  
"It was a dangerous business we were in, Schultz.  No matter the side of the coin you were operating on.  Moving an Allied soldier behind enemy lines was equally as dangerous as moving 'an enemy of the state'.  Either way if caught you were dead," Hogan said softly.  "But that is over with now.  You can go home with a light heart, Schultz.  Take care of your family.  Rebuild your business and find homes for your orphans."  
  
"Yes I will.  I will continue to work at saving my country one person at a time.  Always will I take in another child.  This task you have given me is not so difficult, and perhaps one I should have taken upon myself, but I had initially thought to be held accountable for my inaction." Schultz shook his head and offered his hand to the younger man.  "Colonel, thank you, for everything you have done."  
  
Hogan stood and accepted Schultz's hand.  "You're welcome, Schultz, and thank you."  
  
"Hans, Colonel. The war is over. Call me, Hans," Schultz replied.  
  
"Then you must call me Rob, Hans," Hogan replied in turn.   
  
Schultz smiled broadly.  "With the utmost pleasure … Rob."  Schultz looked at his watch.  "Well the time has come."  
  
"Yes," Hogan replied.  "I'll see you off."  The two men left Barracks Two.    
  
Klink had been waiting for Hogan and Schultz beside the truck he was taking.  As Hogan and Schultz both approached him, Klink smiled at both men.  "I've already spoken with many of your men, Colonel.  I was waiting for you and Schultz."  
  
Hogan returned the smile easily, as the awkwardness that had been between them was finally gone.  Klink trusted Hogan now, sure where the American stood.  And Hogan admired the stand that Klink had been prepared to make and was looking forward to their future relationship.  _Once Klink stopped hiding, he became a remarkable man with a very well developed sense of responsibility.  Schultz -- while never a soldier -- is a man dedicated to his country, not Hitler and his cronies, but to Germany as a culture and to those who called it home.  It has been a remarkable six-weeks. These two men are certainly full of surprises. Just when I thought I knew everything about them, they changed into men I am glad to call friends.  
_  
 "Colonel.  I hope you have a safe journey and can find your family," Hogan said.  
  
"I hope that as well, Colonel.  I will try to return to Hammelburg as soon as possible," Klink replied.  
  
"Doc Freiling will know when to expect my return," Hogan replied.  "I expect it won't be much before August."  
  
"No matter, we will do what we've discussed in your absence.  You will find the work in progress when you do arrive back in Hammelburg." Klink assured him holding out his hand.  "Colonel, holding you prisoner has been a unique experience."  
  
Hogan laughed and returned the handshake.  "Being your prisoner was a strange way to spend the war.  Good luck ,Colonel Wilhelm Klink."  
  
"And you as well, Colonel Robert Hogan," Klink offered finishing the handshake. "Hans, good luck to you.  You have a difficult job ahead of you."  
  
Schultz smiled.  "I don't know, Wilhelm.  It appears what you will be doing will be equally as hard.  I love children, so we will manage somehow.  I hope that you will find all is well in Leipzig."  
  
"I hope so as well, Hans.  Well good luck.  Keep in touch," Klink replied shaking Schultz's hand as well.  
  
"Ja.  Let me know when you return to Hammelburg," Schultz said.  "Good luck, Herr Kommandant."  
  
Klink waved at the men standing around and got into the truck Hogan had given him and drove out the gates of Stalag 13 for the very last time.  _I bet when I return to Hammelburg that Stalag 13 would no longer be standing.  It would be like Hogan to destroy any evidence of what this place had become.  
_  
After Klink had driven from sight, Schultz and Hogan moved back to where Schultz's contingent waited, already packed into the two truck they'd be taking.  "Thanks again, Colonel.  Um.  Rob," Schultz said.  
  
Hogan grinned.  "As I said before you are welcome…. Hans."  
  
"Good luck, Schultzie!" LeBeau said coming forward to wish the former guard good luck.  "I'll send you some strudel sometime.  If you're ever in Paris look me up.  I hope to be starting a restaurant there."  
  
"Ah. Wunderbar.  I will come just for that, cockroach!"  Schultz replied with a happy grin.   
  
"Yeah. Good luck, Schultzie," Newkirk chimed in.  "Take good care of little Gretchen."  Gretchen was the youngest girl Schultz was taking with him. She was only four, and had the whole camp around her finger.  She was adorable.  
  
"Little Gretchen will be fine, Newkirk.  They all will be," Schultz assured them.  
  
"Yeah.  I just bet they will be.  Good luck, Schultz," Carter said.   
  
"Schultz," Kinch said the last to come forward.  "Good luck."  
  
"Kinch.  It is good you are going with the Colonel.  He needs someone to look after him," Schultz said with a serious expression on his face.  "You will see that he is taken care of?"  
  
"You can bet on that," Kinch replied.  "The Doc and I have all the bases covered.  The Colonel will be seen to, whether he wants to be or not."  
  
"Gut.  Then I can leave with a light heart.  Good bye, everyone!"  Schultz called out getting into his truck.  He nodded to the young man who was driving and the trucks rolled out of the gates, with all of the prisoners lining the way shouting and waving.  
  
Hogan watched as the last two trucks carrying the civilians left the camp. _That's the last of the Germans. Now it is just my men.  Two more days and all of this will be a memory.   
_  
**Wurzburg, Germany, Airfield,   
May 11, 1945, 0720 Hours  
**  
Hogan accompanied the first group of men to the airfield.  He had wanted to see his men off, and make sure that he was there to deal with any problems that came up.  And not wanting to appear to be too ill to the incoming personnel, he had removed his eye patch before he had left his quarters.  The patch was in his pocket, just in case, but he was not experiencing any difficulties.  And he had already informed London that he would be drafting some of the MPs being sent for security purposes to drive the trucks back to camp, as he just wasn't willing ask his any of his men to return to camp with their ride home so very close.   
  
Hogan had been appalled at the level of destruction that existed in the countryside.  He hadn't been outside of Stalag 13 or even the Hammelburg area in close to three months.  And as the six trucks pulled through the deserted gates at the airfield in Wurzburg, he couldn't help but notice that the airfield was also in horrible disarray.  "I guess we should have sent an advance team out," Hogan said to Sergeant Marlow who was driving the truck.  "I hope there's a usable runway."  
  
"We'll find one," Marlow replied, as he parked his truck as close as possible to the nearest runway.  It had pieces of some German plane or another scattered everywhere on this end of the runway.  
  
"Messerschmitts," Hogan identified adding,  "Gustoff, one of our contacts out here, reported at one point there were six strips out of this field.  Let's split up.  We'll pick the least damaged one and pitch the debris off.  We've got almost forty minutes till the planes arrive."  
  
**_The men spread out over the field…   
_**  
It was quickly determined that the best runway would be the far northeast runway.  It had a couple of craters in it, but the debris was merely scattered sporadically and could be easily removed.  They didn't have time to repair the runway but hopefully with a few well-placed flags they could alert the pilots of the craters presence.  The last thing Hogan wanted… was to have the planes sent for them crash while they were trying to land.  
  
At 0800 Hogan thought the runway was usable and ordered his men back to the trucks.  Now they merely had to wait.  At the head of the usable runway Hogan had ordered a white 'X' drawn with sheets from the deserted nearby barracks.  The sheets were weighted down with anything handy.  He hoped that would be enough information for the lead pilot to choose the correct strip.  
  
Hogan looked over his men.  They were all clustered around him waiting for the planes to come.  He took a deep breath. While this wasn't really goodbye, he'd see them all tomorrow, it was goodbye in the sense that what they had done here in Germany was over with.  "Well, fellas," he said getting the attention of all of his men instantly.  "I hope you are all very proud of what we've done here.  We've done good work here.  I realize how hard it was for you to stay behind, as we helped so many other Allied flyers go home.  LeBeau gave me the official count last night.  We sent 2,492 Allied flyers home, we rescued 873 civilians, and we helped 1,802 defectors out of the country.  It was an extremely busy 1,289 days.  I want to thank each and every one of you for volunteering to stay, for your company and for all of your efforts.  Without each and every one of you I doubt that we would have been as successful.  I could not have done this alone.  Together we made Stalag 13 what it was.  Thank you."  Hogan drew himself up to his full height and saluted his men.  He had tears in his eyes.  He was so damned proud of these men!  
  
Almost immediately they heard the sounds of airplanes zeroing in on their position.  Hogan, along with the rest of the men moved back behind the parked trucks to give the large planes room to maneuver.  The squadron circled the field and aligned themselves to the selected runway.  As they made their final approach each plane dipped their wings.  Soon the six planes were lined up on the runway.  Hogan led his men towards the lead plane.  As they approached Hogan told Sergeant Marlow to form the men up behind him, while they waited for the men on the planes to come out.    
  
The hatch of the lead plane opened and a full complement of MPs got out.  The MPs fanned out creating a security screen.  When that was accomplished two more men came out and approached Hogan and his men.  
  
"Major Michael Sears.  Colonel," Sears said offering a salute to the man standing at the head of the men he assumed they were here to airlift to London.  
  
"Major," Hogan replied returning the others salute.  "Colonel Robert Hogan and the first compliment of men from Luft Stalag 13 in Hammelburg.  Welcome to Germany, Major."  Hogan offered his hand to the Major.  "We're very glad to see you."  
  
"Colonel Hogan," Sears said shaking the others hand.  _Damn. The Colonel looks like hell.  His face is gaunt and his jacket is several sizes too large._ "This is Captain John Smithers, in charge of our security detail.  He and his men will stay and guard the planes while your men are being ferried to the airfield.  We understand it's a 60 mile journey round trip."  
  
"68 miles to be exact, Major," Hogan replied.  "I had asked for some MPs to drive these trucks back to camp?"  
  
"Yes, sir," Captain Smithers replied.  "I have already assigned six men to that detail.  They'll need directions."  
  
"I'll be returning to camp with them, Captain.  I will be the last man to leave Stalag 13.  For the very last trip back to camp you will have to send 30 additional men with them.  I have a lot of cargo to be moved and loaded onto the plane to take with us back to London," Hogan informed them.  
  
"Yes, sir," Smithers replied wondering what kind of cargo a POW could have.  "I'll come back to the camp with the 30 men."  
  
"Thank you.  Are we all set then gentlemen?  Are we ready to get the first group in the air?" Hogan wondered.  
  
"Yes, sir.  Right away.  We'll be loading my plane, the others will stay here," Sears replied.  "Do any of your men need assistance?"  
  
"No,, Major.  They're all going to get on that plane under their own steam," Hogan replied with a grin.  When he had suggested that they let the rescue personnel help with the wounded, his men had informed him categorically that they would not need any outside help.  They would look after their own.  
  
"All right then," the Major agreed very surprised, knowing that he would be taking the sickest of the men back with him.  He had expected that at least one man would have to be carried to the plane.  They had packed blankets and stretchers for just such an eventuality.  It was amazing that they would not be needed.  
  
Hogan turned back to his men, still neatly standing in rank.  "That's it then, fellas.  The bus is leaving!"  
  
The men cheered and then very orderly, one at a time, came forward to personally say goodbye to Hogan.  Hogan was very surprised, as he had expected them all to dash for the plane, but he was willing to go along with what they wanted.  He shook each man's hand, calling him by name while wishing him luck.  Sears stood by his side, amazed at this display of solidarity.    
  
After all 250 men had shaken the Colonel's hand, Hogan turned to Major Sears. "Take good care of them, Major," Hogan said his voice breaking.  Clearing his throat he continued, "We've been through a lot together."  _Damn.  This is harder than I ever imagined it could be.  It's finally over.  These men who I have lived with, fought with and almost died with are now free men.  Their lives are no longer tied down to their commitment to making Stalag 13 a successful operation.  Their lives no longer depend upon me.  I don't have to come up with one more rabbit out of the hat, or an even crazier scheme to save the day. I am free as well.    
_  
"I will, Colonel. Don't you worry.  I'll see you tomorrow," Sears said again saluting the Colonel.  
  
Hogan backed off the runway to where the trucks were parked.  He stood there, watching the plane taxi to the head of the runway, take off and finally when he couldn't see it any longer he turned to Captain Smithers who stood beside him.  "Who's coming back with me, Captain?"  
  
"These six men, Colonel," Smithers replied gesturing to the nearest six men, who had been waiting patiently while the Colonel's attention had been focused intently on watching the first plane leave.  
  
"Good.  Let's get started back then," Hogan replied suddenly very weary.  He felt he could sleep for a week, but knew he had another five groups of men to see off today, followed by the last five tomorrow, as well as the very last plane full of cargo, the remainder of the rescue personnel, and his staff.  _It is going to be a very long two days.  
_  
Hogan gestured for the drivers to get in the trucks, swinging into the lead truck himself.  "Well Corporal, let's get a move on."  
  
"Yes, sir," the Corporal replied, starting the truck.  
  
**London, England, Fieldstone US Army Airbase,   
May 11, 1945, 1145 Hours  
**  
There was such anticipation in the air.  Many people were just hanging around waiting for the first plane to arrive.  Reports from the flight crew said that there were four people on the plane listed as recovering from gunshot wounds and/or serious broken bones, but in their opinion, those POWs seemed to be better off than the few listed as having only minor injuries, some fractured wrists and ankles and twisted knees.  One had to assume that the minor injuries had occurred more recently, but no one was admitting as to how those injuries occurred.   
  
At 1205 Hours, the first cargo plane came to a stop in front of hanger bay six.  The pilot announced that the cargo door would be opening and to stand back.  Colonel Hogan had assigned two barracks leaders to head each planeload. Sergeant Matthews and Sergeant Marlow called everyone to their feet.  They were going to walk off this plane under their own power.  There were already people assigned from this group to deal with the injured.  Colonel Hogan had tried to convince them to let the staff of the base help with the injured, but one look at the faces of his men, told him that his men were too proud to accept help for that. They would take care of their own until the last possible minute.  Colonel Hogan had just smiled.  
  
All 250 men disembarked the plane and formed ranks. The base staff was very quiet, not sure how to react to these men at first. Most has assumed they would be a ragtag bunch of soldiers. That definitely wasn't the case.  They certainly looked tired, thin and relieved to be home, but definitely not what the base commanders had been expecting.   
  
Sergeant Marlow and Sergeant Matthews reported to Colonel Wright. They came to attention and saluted saying  "Sergeant Matthews. Sergeant Marlow. Reporting, sir.  We had been given command of this contingent, until our arrival.  Our orders are now to turn this contingent over to you, sir."  
  
Colonel Wright returned the salute, addressing the two men in front of him. "Gentleman, I'm Colonel Stephen Wright, Base Commander.  I will gladly accept command of your contingent."  Looking past the two Sergeants and into the faces of the other POWs, he said, "Welcome home, gentlemen!"    
  
**_The 250 POWs erupted into thunderous cheers…  
_**  
Colonel Wright let it run its course. When the roar finally quieted, he explained the identification and medical procedures they would all need to follow.  As Wright dismissed the assembly, his teams went into action. _Amazing, I'm looking forward to meeting the Senior POW Officer. He's done a remarkable job keeping these men healthy and working as a team._  
  
Major Michael Sears approached Colonel Wright to report in. "Major Sears, reporting, sir. All went according to plan, sir.  Very smooth transition."  
  
"Very good, Major," Wright offered. "I'm suitably impressed with these men. Did you get to meet the Senior POW Officer?"  
  
"Yes, sir.  The Senior POW Officer is a Colonel Robert Hogan, US Army Air Corp," reported Sears. "He certainly has the respect of his men, sir, it was quite obvious even for the short time I was at the airfield."  
  
"Colonel Robert Hogan, huh?" Wright said distracted.  _Rob Hogan? I thought he had been killed in a raid over Hamburg.  Wow, that was three years ago.  He's been cooped up in a POW camp for this whole time?_  "You said his men are very loyal to him, Major?"   
  
"More than I ever would've expected, sir," answered Major Sears sheepishly, and pausing.  "I meant no disrespect, sir.  I just didn't think that POWs would have even cared, one way or another.  But as you can see, they aren't quite what we had expected."  
  
"Indeed. Thank you Major. That's all," Wright said.   
  
Major Sears saluted and headed for his plane.   
  
Colonel Wright stood quietly after the Major had left. _I'm definitely going to have to talk to Rob Hogan.  I wonder?  I can't see him rotting away in a prison camp.  He's been in the Hammelburg area for three years? And there was a major underground operation in that area?  No it can't be. These guys are just POWs.   
_  
**London, England, Fieldstone US Army Airbase,   
May 11, 1945, 1345 Hours  
**  
Colonel Wright noticed that there were still quite a lot of people hanging around waiting for the next planeload. _I guess it will be that way until all these men come home._  He glanced over by the hanger deck where the former POWs were being housed. As he watched, those men started to assemble in front of the hanger building.  They formed ranks and waited. _For their comrades… remarkable!   
_  
The second plane arrived at 1410 Hours. Those POWs disembarked the same way, orderly, under their own power. This time it was a Major Boynton and a Lieutenant Riley that turned command over to him. He again welcomed the men home, and the expected outburst occurred. This time though the already processed former POWs joined in.  He then explained the transition process and the POWs were released.  _I guess this will be the same routine for all eleven planes.   
_  
Wright had noticed though, for the first time, that the POWs command dynamics were all wrong.  Two Sergeants presented the first group to him, but as time had passed, he had noticed multiple Lieutenants and a Captain in their ranks.  A Major and a Lieutenant presented the second group and there had been at least one Captain in their ranks, as well.  _Interesting.  I will definitely need to talk to Rob Hogan.  
_  
**London, England, Fieldstone US Army Airbase,   
May 11, 1945, 2300 Hours  
**  
Colonel Wright had just received his final report of the evening from Colonel Rodney Ballister, who told him that the medics had kept up fairly well all day and that most of the POWs were now only waiting on their full physicals. Ballister thought that his medics would be through with the triage of the last planeload by 0100 Hours. Ballister would then order his medics to call it a night, as the whole process was going to begin again in the morning.   
  
When Ballister had finished, Colonel Wright headed back to his quarters.  _What a day. All six planes had made it back safely. We now have 1500 former POWs. _ And he'd been right; the same scene played itself out each time. Only now the runway was getting really crowded. Almost every former POW assembled for each plane, only those in the middle of some examination had missed the planes.   
  
_It's amazing! Most of the reports of other POWs being released have had horror stories attached to them.  It really is a different story with these men.  Sure, they are all undernourished and they all look like they've been under a lot of stress, which is fairly normal for the situation they've been in.  It's just that I have never seen such a cohesive unit before, POW or not. Everyone is looking out for everyone else._    
  
Wright was truly surprised at this group of men, especially since this group was made up of men from many countries.  He'd have to hand it to Robert Hogan.  _However Rob has manage, he has kept these men working together, alive, and sane in a difficult situation.  
_  
**Luft Stalag 13, Compound,   
May 12, 1945, 1345 Hours  
**  
Major Sears had returned with the planes early this morning, and sent along a report with the truck drivers that all of yesterday's planes had arrived safely.  And so far today, the ferry between Stalag 13 and the airfield had gone smoothly. Each group of men had wanted to individually say goodbye to Hogan and his staff.  It had been a very emotional two days for everyone. But now, there was only one mission left to carry out for Hogan and his men.  Once the last truckloads of POWs were gone, the five of them would complete the wiring of the camp.  All that would need to be done then was to wait for the trucks return, have the cargo loaded, and implode the tunnels.   
  
**_And finally head to Wurzburg for their own ride home…  
_**  
Hogan, Kinch, Newkirk, Carter and LeBeau stood near the front gates watching as that last group of men was about to leave for Wurzburg, and ultimately back to London.  The trucks drove out of camp, leaving the five of them alone in a suddenly empty, forlorn Stalag 13.  
  
"Well, fellas," Hogan said with a grin, after the last truck disappeared from view.  "We've got approximately three hours left in the old dungeon.  We all know what we need to do, let's get to work checking our sections.  We'll meet back here at the cargo when we're done, we still need to wait for the trucks to get back here and the cargo to be loaded."  
  
Hogan received four very happy grins and the five men parted company at the gate, each going in a different direction.  
  
Kinch entered the tunnels under Barracks Two. Earlier this morning he had dismantled the radio, so that on their way to Wurzburg they could stop at Schnitzer's and drop the pieces off.  Perhaps the German Vet would be able to find them a new home.  As he strode through the tunnel system though, he found himself looking over his shoulder.  _Damn it's spooky down here. I don't understand it. I've been in the tunnels alone plenty of times.  Why is it so different now that only five men occupied the camp? I'll be glad when this job is done and I'm topside again!  It is so weird to think of leaving Stalag 13.  The war is over, and yet being here at Stalag 13 I have never felt so alive.  So needed.  It is going to be a hard feeling to give up.  Sure I am going to continue my working relationship with Hogan, but it will never be the same again._ Kinch hunched his shoulders and continued checking the explosives already in place.  Carter and his team had been busy wiring the place for the last week.  Now only major parts of the chain reaction needed to be placed, then it was simply a matter of setting the charges off.  Kinch continued on his way as he still had many more miles of tunnels to check.  Carter was doing the tunnels on the other side of camp.  
  
Carter had entered the tunnel system from Klink's old quarters.  He was responsible for what had been his domain, the lab where he'd made so many explosive packs, the storeroom behind it where his supplies had been stacked along with much of the equipment Newkirk had been responsible for.  As he worked setting the final charges he began to feel jumpy as well.  _Must be the empty feeling the old place has. It is strange to know that within a very few hours my life at Stalag 13 will be over.  Here I found a niche that I was very good at.  That is an accomplishment I'll remember forever.  It is not something that too many people will agree on.  I've always been such a klutz and an idiot.  But to the men here and especially to the Colonel, I have been an indispensable member of the team. I wonder if I can capture that feeling again when I'm teaching?  Can I really be a teacher?_  Carter continued on with his duties, setting explosives almost absentmindedly.  After three years he could place charges in his sleep.  He was sure he had on more than one occasion.    
  
LeBeau wandered around the camp above ground, as he was responsible for the charges set at the entrances to the tunnel system from within the camp.  The plan called for all of the tunnel system to be collapsed.  The Colonel didn't want one square yard of tunnel to survive the implosion, as he was worried about the tunnels collapsing, on their own, and perhaps hurting someone in the future.  As LeBeau walked in and out of the various buildings he was surprised at the vacillating feelings he was having.  _I thought I'd be glad to get out of this pigsty, the lousy food and the cramped, cold quarters.  But instead I'm sad to see this end. Never before had I had such an impact on anything.  I've been a chef ever since I can remember.  I've always loved to cook.  But here, here I literally cooked our way into many a secret, high-level meeting.  Many times if it wasn't for my culinary skills we would not have been able to obtain any information at all.  Once I leave here, I will still be a chef.  Not for the defense of one's country and personal pride, but instead I will be cooking merely for the enjoyment of food.  It is funny.  The Colonel wrought his forces well here.  We are all such a team.  Each man to his own personal strength, while the Colonel led the way.    
_  
Newkirk was the only one of them outside the wire.  He had been given the responsibility of all of the outside entrances of the tunnels.  The woods were pleasant and it was actually a lovely early afternoon in May.  The sun was shinning, the birds were singing.  Many a time he had been out here when the reverse was true.  When the snow was thick on the ground, and the wind whistling through his jacket.  He almost jumped out of his skin when a stepped on a branch creating a loud crack.  He instantly froze in place.  _Bloody 'ell!  Force of habit old man. _ He continued on his way with a sheepish grin.  There was no reason to skulk through the woods; there were no patrols to elude.  But that thought set him to thinking.  _This is it, the end. In a few short hours I will walk out the front gate of Stalag 13 a free man.  I've changed a lot being here.  Before I was drafted I had my short stage career and the odd stint as a front man in some scheme or another.  If I hadn't been drafted, winding up here, I would probably be in prison for real.  I was heading for a fall. It was easier making money working the schemes than finding another spot for my stage show.  Then I arrived here, and the Colonel wanted to set up this insane scheme. The daring of it still has the power to take my breath away.  Who else would have thought of such a scheme, and gotten away with it for over three years?!  I know my other more worldly talents have been indispensable for Hogan. Picking locks, forging, pick pocketing. He even had me teaching classes.  Imagine setting up an apprenticeship for pick pocketing! Here I learned what the consequences for those actions could have been.  I didn't like being a prisoner, nor do I intend ever to be one again. I stayed because I gave my word to Hogan.  Nothing else would have kept me here.  For that matter, that was another thing that has changed.  My word is my bond.  Hogan taught me that as well.  Before a promise made was meant to be broken.  Here a broken promise meant someone's death, perhaps even my own. I'm going to have quite a lot of back pay coming, especially if those promotions Hogan promised come through.  I should have enough to open a pub with a poolroom, and a couple of card games. That will be all I will allow myself to run on the more shady side of my character.  I'm going to run straight an' narrow.  Build a life me mum will be proud of.  Build one I'll be proud of.  Build one I won't be ashamed to tell the guys at our reunions!  
_  
Hogan stood in his quarters for what he knew was going to be the very last time.  The room was the same as it had been for the past three plus years.  He was bringing nothing here home with him. There was nothing here he wanted to keep.  He was here only to pick up the briefcase containing the paperwork that he and Kinch had completed.  He picked up the case from his desk and stood for a moment, before heading out.  _This is it.  The end.  The end of three and a half years. 43 months.  1,289 days.  My life will soon not be defined by barbed wire fences.  When we leave here today this place will no longer exist.  I've seen the amount of explosives.  Carter has laid enough to ensure that not only will the tunnels be filled in, but the camp itself will be reduced to rubble. I didn't protest because truthfully I want to blow the place sky high.  This dump will be relegated to memory.  There is no place for it any longer.  It would have been a better world altogether if there had never been a reason to build it.  But that had not been the case.  The war left scars everywhere.  The countryside is devastated, an entire race nearly wiped out, an entire generation, worldwide, of young men gone, and children's happy childhoods replaced by memories of horror and evil._  Hogan sighed, closing the door to his quarters and exiting Barracks Two for the very last time.  He headed across the compound to Klink's office to check to make sure he had everything he needed from there.  _The scars I have collected over the last three years will stay with me always, they may fade to be barely recognizable, but the memories will be with me forever.  At some point I will have to face those memories and deal with them.  The orders I've given that resulted in countless German civilian and military deaths.  The plans that haven't gone quite as planned and had to be hastily revised, costing a higher price tag in needless death.  The memories of visiting Dachau.  Learning what was done there, and walking away, doing nothing to end it.  The memories of Hochstetter and the beating, and the nightmares I'm sure to deal with._  Hogan searched Klink's office, making sure nothing vital was left behind.  He pocketed the remaining cigars in the humidor on the desk.  He tucked another full box that he found in the file drawer inside his briefcase.  They were fine cigars. There was no reason to blow them up.  He found several more papers he thought he might need, then he went through the safe that he had had Newkirk open last week.  Yes, he had everything he needed from here.  He exited the building and headed for the crates stacked at the front gate.  All he had to do now was wait for his men to return from the final wiring of the camp.  He took a seat on one of the crates, stretching his legs out to rest comfortably on another crate and leaned back to enjoy the warm spring sunshine while he waited.    
  
**_One by one the other men came out to join him…  
_**  
LeBeau had finished first, followed by Newkirk.  Finally Carter and Kinch approached, coming from opposite directions.  "The charges are all set," Carter replied.  "I've wired the whole thing into five boxes on the hill over there."  Carter pointed off to the south.  The direction they would have to drive off in.  "Once we're ready, I'll just need to connect the final wires and then the plungers, and the whole place goes up."  
  
"Five boxes?" Hogan asked.  "Why so many?"  
  
Carter smiled sheepishly.  "I thought maybe we'd all like to, well you know, blow up the place.  So there's one for each of us."  Carter was rewarded with the grins of delight from his friends, and even the Colonel seemed pleased.  
  
"That was very thoughtful of you, Andrew!" Newkirk replied slapping him on the back.  
  
"Good job, Carter," Hogan replied with a grin of his own.  _I was right.  Carter is planning on wholesale destruction.  
_  
"What time do you think the trucks will be back?" LeBeau asked glancing at his watch, now that all the jobs were done he was anxious to be gone from here.  
  
"Another ten minutes, at least," Kinch replied.    
  
"Take a seat, gentlemen," Hogan said gesturing to the various crates stacked around.  "This is the last time we will all be able sit on a few million dollars worth of stuff."  
  
Newkirk grinned.  "Yeah your kids will ask you what did you do during the war, Daddy? And you'll be able to tell him truthfully that you've sat on a staircase worth 1.5 million dollars!"  
  
"Or better yet," Kinch said. "You'll tell the kids that the mess hall was decorated with 'copies' of famous paintings that you can visit in the Louvre."  
  
The group of them laughed, as they had certainly done many bizarre things during the operation here.  
  
"Of course.  You all realize that we can't say anything to anyone about what we did here," Hogan cautioned them.  "Not even your family, or these figurative kids you all of a sudden have, Newkirk."  
  
"We know mon, Colonel," LeBeau replied with a sigh echoed by the other men.  "It's a secret.  We'll keep it.  But it will be good for a few laughs when we get together again!"  
  
"Yeah.  No one would believe it any how," Carter said.   
  
**_They fell into a comfortable silence. But before long though…   
_**  
Carter, Newkirk, LeBeau and Kinch all began to address the Colonel at the same time.    
  
Hogan glanced amused between his men.  "What?"  
  
"Go ahead, Carter," said Newkirk.    
  
"No.  You can go, Newkirk," said Carter.  
  
"Kinch, did you say something?" LeBeau asked.  
  
"You guys are horrible.  What is it?"  Hogan asked breaking up what was quickly turning into a rapid passing of the buck.  They all wanted to say something.  He could almost guess what was coming.  
  
"Well, Colonel.  Um," Kinch began. "Well.  What we all wanted to say is..."    
  
LeBeau broke in.  "We all wanted to say thank you, sir.  You've given us all a chance to make a difference in this war, instead of merely being by-standers.  We are all very proud to be members of Papa Bear's organization.  Mon Dieu!  I can't say this properly!  Even if we can't speak of this once we walk out those gates, we will always remember what we've done here with pride.  No one will be able to take our memories away.  We wanted you to know, that you were the reason we all stayed here. Your passion, for fighting for what was right, rubbed off on the rest of us.  We wouldn't have missed it for the world."    
  
There were nods of agreement all around.   
  
"Thanks, fellas.  We worked well together over the years.  I'm proud of all of you.  I'm proud of what we were able to do here.  While I'm not sorry to see this place go up in smoke. I will be sorry that we will no longer be working together as a unit," Hogan said.  
  
Hogan shook each man's hand, pulling each into a great hug.  It was the end.  It was fitting.  These four men meant more to Hogan than anyone else ever had.  No matter where life took them, he knew should he ever need anything, these four would come if he called.  And he was sure that they all knew the reverse was true.  _I will do anything, anytime for any of them.  
_  
**_The trucks returned from Wurzburg at that precise moment…  
_**  
Captain Smithers was in the lead truck.  He noticed the congratulatory hand shakes and hugs between the Colonel and his staff as the trucks entered the compound.  He could imagine how they felt. _Free men at long last.  It has to be overwhelming. _ When the trucks stopped, his men immediately exited the trucks and formed ranks.  Captain Smithers approached Colonel Hogan.  "Is this the cargo, Colonel Hogan?" Smithers asked.  
  
"That's all of it, Captain.  It should fit in three trucks.  Your men can begin loading the trucks immediately," said Colonel Hogan.  "One thing more, Captain, the cargo is very fragile and top secret.  You will not allow your men to inspect the cargo.  That order comes directly from the Allied High Command.  Is that understood?"  
  
"Of course, Colonel. Not a problem," Smithers agreed. _What the hell could they have?  
_  
"Also, Captain, when the trucks are loaded, you and your men will return immediately to the airfield. My men and I have one more duty to perform here. We'll follow you within an hour," Colonel Hogan said.  
  
"Colonel.  That goes against my orders.  I am not supposed to leave anyone behind here. I was to make sure that the place was cleared out on our last trip. I'm sorry, but you will have to come with us," Smithers replied.  
  
"Listen Smithers.  Your orders come from your direct superior.  My orders come from the Allied High Command.  Do you really want me to explain to Allied High Command that you didn't let me perform my last duty here? Huh?" Hogan countered. "We will be right behind you.  We have one thing more to do."  
  
"All right," Smithers said rather unhappy.   
  
Smithers turned to his men and ordered them to pack the trucks. Hogan and his men supervised.    
  
**_It took almost 45 minutes to load the trucks…  
_**  
Smithers approached Hogan as the last of his men had boarded the trucks. "Colonel.  Are you sure you need to stay?  I can have my men take care of what needs to be done."   
  
"No thank you ,Captain. We have our orders. We'll be right behind you," Hogan said.  
  
"Okay,Colonel. We'll expect you soon." Smithers turned and boarded the lead truck.   
  
The cargo had indeed filled three of the trucks. The fourth carried the MP's. The last truck would be theirs. The five men watched as the four trucks drove out of sight.   
  
"Carter.  What kind of leeway do we have?  Where should we park the truck?" asked Hogan.  
  
"Sir. We should be fine if we park the truck over that hill to the south.  It's only a couple hundred yards to the detonators," replied Carter.  
  
"Okay.  This is it.  Let's go!" Hogan said excitedly.   
  
The five men bolted for the truck. Kinch and Hogan got in the front, the others jumped in back.  It took only 15 minutes before Carter was connecting the detonators and plungers to the five boxes.    
  
"Ready, Colonel!" Carter said.  
  
They each took up a position at one of the plungers. "So. Do we do this together or one at a time?" asked Hogan.  
  
"Together," everyone else replied excitedly.  
  
"Carter, if you please?" Hogan said allowing Carter to give the order.  
  
"Right, Colonel.  Let's do it on the count of three. Everyone." Carter received nods from everyone. "One. -- Two. -- Three!"  
  
They all hit the plungers at the same time. Carter had wired the camp as a series of chain reactions.  They stood, cheered, and slapped each other on the back, watching the cascading effect, as building after building collapsed from the underground explosions.  But, only too soon the explosions were over and their excited cheering came to an end.  The five men stood quietly, somewhat captivated by the fact that Stalag 13 -- their home -- their base of operations -- everything they've known for over three years -- was reduced to rubble.    
  
It bothered them, more than they ever would have imagined.  Quietly, Hogan signaled for them to get back in the truck. They drove away from, what was left of Stalag 13, in silence.   
  
**London, England, Fieldstone US Army Airbase,   
Colonel Wright's Office,  
May 12, 1945, 1930 Hours  
**  
Colonel Wright was looking out his office door, which lead onto the runway.  He stood there pondering all that had happened during the day. Four of the five planes had already returned.  The last was due within the hour.  Again, he was impressed.  These men continued to show that they were a cohesive unit.  More and more men had been gathering for each plane.  They would stand respectfully, at attention, until the 'welcome home', then loud raucous cheering would occur.  It was now almost deafening. But these men deserved to let off some steam.  
  
Colonel Ballister had reported in earlier in the day that he was also amazed.  Most of these men had no obvious injuries or ailments.  That could change, of course, when all the testing was done.  But in terms of their captivity, he unknowingly had agreed with Colonel Wright's own assessment. That undernourishment and stress seem to be the biggest issues.  
  
The Colonel, still looking out his door, noticed that General Creighton had arrived.  Wright quickly joined General Creighton on the runway.  This was the first time the General had made an appearance.  He had not wanted to make everyone nervous, if he was hovering around.  But, he did want to be here to meet the Senior POW Officer, a Colonel Robert Hogan. From what Colonel Wright had told him of these POWs, this Colonel Hogan was the reason they were as healthy as they were.   
  
As the General waited, he looked around noticing all the former POWs starting to gather. Colonel Wright had told him that they had been assembling for each plane.  It was an impressive sight, as the approximately 2500 men formed ranks and came to attention. These men would be standing off to the left of the cargo door. He and Colonel Wright would approach the plane from directly in front of the cargo door, as Hogan and his men exited.  
  
**_Just a short time later…  
_**  
The last plane came to a halt in front of the former POWs' hanger deck.  The cargo door opened and Hogan and four other men emerged. Almost immediately, the assembled POWs started a raucous cheer. Five very distinct 'hoorahs' rang out.  As Hogan and his men hit the runway, they spun on their heels to approach the assembled POWs. The five men came to attention and saluted. As one, all the assembled POWs returned their salute.    
  
Hogan then came forward to inspect his men. _They are being so serious._  He had an ear-to-ear grin as he walked down the row of men, away from the assembled base officials.  As he turned and headed back, that command bearing came into play, but he could see the amusement on his men's faces.  _I can play the military game too._  As Hogan approached the assembly's midway point, he turned to face his men and said, "Well gentlemen.  I'm extremely impressed.  I wouldn't have known you.  You clean-up really well."    
  
**_The assembled POWs broke into loud cheers and laughter…  
_**  
Colonel Wright was a little annoyed that Hogan ignored them and went to his men first and apologized to General Creighton, though Creighton didn't appear upset.  Wright was saying, "What did he just say to his men? Did I hear it correctly? That seems like a rather uncalled for statement."  
  
Creighton responded,  "Relax, Colonel.  Whatever you might think of that statement.  It seemed to have had the desired effect."  
  
Colonel Hogan tore him and his staff away from the carrying-on and approached the base officials.  Almost immediately, the rest of his men noticed, quieted down, and came to attention.  As Hogan reached the officers, he said saluting, "Colonel Robert Hogan, US Army Air Corp, Senior POW Officer, Stalag 13. Reporting, sir."  
  
General Creighton and Colonel Wright both returned the salute. The General reached out to shake Hogan's hand.  "Welcome home, Colonel Hogan.  I'm General Creighton, Fieldstone's Commanding General. This is Colonel Stephen Wright, my second in command."  
  
"Thank you, General," Hogan said and turned to the Colonel, extending his hand. "Hello Steve, it's been a long time."    
  
The Colonel grasped his hand. "It certainly has.  Welcome back, Rob."  
  
"Thanks," said Hogan as he turned back to the General  "I would like to introduce my staff, sir."  He indicated each man. "Sergeant Ivan Kinchloe, Sergeant Andrew Carter, Corporal Louis LeBeau, and Corporal Peter Newkirk."  Each man had come to attention and saluted the General.    
  
The General returned each salute. "Again.  Welcome home, gentlemen," Creighton said. "I would like to talk to you and you staff sometime, Colonel, but I believe you and your men are needed elsewhere."    
  
_His staff officers are Corporals and Sergeants?_ Colonel Wright stepped up and told the five men of the procedures they would need to follow.   
  
Before he finished Hogan said, "Excuse me, Colonel Wright.  But before I go anywhere, I have one more duty and that is to see to the safe storage of the cargo contained on that plane.  I will need some of your men to help unload it, then I need to inspect the storage facility," Hogan said evenly.  
  
"Colonel.  My men can handle the cargo.  You don't have to be involved," Wright said.  He had noticed that of all the POWs that returned, Hogan appeared to be the one in the worst condition.  He was way too thin, and his face looked very gaunt.  A strong wind looked like it would bowl him over.  _He almost looks like if you gave him the opportunity to sleep for a month, he would.  So that's the toll taking care of these men has had on him._  
  
"Sorry, Colonel," Hogan countered. "I will not leave the transfer of that cargo to just anyone.  It's imperative that it gets safely stored."    
  
Two of Hogan's men, Sergeant's Marlow and Matthews, came forward quickly and interrupted. "Colonel Hogan. We can handle the transfer of cargo, sir. Why don't you take the time to get on with the base procedures," said Matthews sheepishly, with Marlow nodding his agreement.  
  
Hogan turned quickly toward his men, wanting to tell them to mind their own business, but when he saw their faces, his mood softened.  He realized that just the thought of yet another examination was making him anxious.  _I shouldn't take it out on them._  "Okay, gentlemen.  Colonel.  Sergeant's Marlow and Matthews will supervise the storage of the cargo.  My men and I will submit to your procedures." _Oh bloody hell, as Newkirk would say.  
_  
"Very good, Colonel.  This way please," Wright said, having noticed the interplay between Hogan and his men.  Hogan was about to jump down their throats but caught himself in time.  It had looked to him like Hogan's men were eager to have their reluctant commanding officer seen by a medic.  _So my assumption was right, that Hogan is more ill than he will let on.  
_  
Before Hogan followed the Colonel he said, "Sergeant Marlow.  There is a briefcase on the plane.  It contains the personnel papers from Stalag 13.  I'm leaving those in your hands for now.  Do not misplace them.  Is that understood Sergeant?"  
  
"Yes, sir.  Perfectly, sir," Marlow said smiling. _I will never lose those papers._ The Colonel had spent four days going through all that paperwork to assign promotions to the men who had volunteered to stay and run the underground operation with him.   
  
"We're all yours, Colonel Wright," Hogan said as he followed the Colonel.  The first step was identity confirmation.  They all had to show their dog tags, and give more identifying information, like birth date and place.  When that was complete, they were handed new flight suits, and directed to the delousing station.  They were told that their uniforms would be burned, but that they could keep any insignia.   
  
Hogan and his men were then allowed to take nice hot showers, not long enough, but nice hot ones, nonetheless.  The five of them dressed in the clothes provided… the clean cloth felt nice against their skins.  Once dressed, they walked across the road to the base hospital.  There, each of them was weighed, measured and had blood, urine and stool samples taken. They were given a TB test and a couple of shots.  The nurse told them they were for tetanus and a shot of antibiotics.  They were then asked to wait in the makeshift cafeteria, where coffee, and sandwiches were provided.  
  
"Help yourself," Sister Healey told them and left quickly in search of the doctor Rodney Ballister.  _I need to find the doctor. I'm very concerned about the American Colonel.  He is drastically underweight.  He's in the worst condition of any of the POWs.  He weighed in at only 135 pounds.  The nurses had some problems drawing blood and giving him his shots.  I think he needs to be pushed to the head of the line for his medical exam.  
_  
"Wow food," Carter said excitedly after the nurse had vacated the cafeteria.  
  
"Really, Andrew.  You have such a grasp of the obvious," Newkirk replied while the others just rolled their eyes, each with a sandwich in hand.  
  
"Colonel.  Try one of these," Carter said trying to hand the Colonel a sandwich, as Hogan was the only one who hadn't immediately picked one up.  
  
"What?" Hogan asked focusing on Carter.  "What's the matter?"  
  
"Have a sandwich, sir," Carter repeated.  "They're really good."  
  
"Thanks, Carter," Hogan replied taking the sandwich distracted as he was thinking about the brief exam they had just been given.  _135 pounds.  I weigh 135 pounds.  I knew I had lost weight. But how could it be more than 30 pounds from when I was captured? Admittedly, most was dropped in the last six weeks, but I just can't believe that I only weigh 135 pounds.  I haven't weighed 135 pounds since I was in high school.  
_  
Kinch exchanged glances with Carter, Newkirk, and LeBeau.  The Colonel hadn't even bit into the sandwich that Carter had given him.  "Colonel.  Are you okay?" Kinch asked.  
  
Hogan looked at Kinch, startled to find he had a sandwich in his hand.  "I'm sorry.  What?"  
  
"Are you okay?" Kinch repeated.  
  
"Yeah.  I was just thinking.  I saw what I weighed.  It really shook me up.  I've lost more than 30 pounds," Hogan replied putting the sandwich back on the table.  
  
"We know," Kinch replied.  "It's why we've been so worried about you.  You don't make taking care of you easy you know."  
  
"Yeah.  You're as stubborn as a bleeding mule," Newkirk chimed in.  
  
"I'm sorry.  But I really didn't have much choice in the matter," Hogan replied with a sigh.  
  
"But now you do," LeBeau pointed out.    
  
"You've got us all home safely.  You should use this time to recover completely," Kinch added pulling a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it off to Hogan.  
  
Hogan glared.  _Freiling!_  "And he thought American's were stubborn!  When did he give that to you, Kinch?  Do you all have one too?"  
  
"No, sir," Newkirk quickly replied.  "But Kinch told us."  
  
"Fine!"  Hogan said throwing up his hands.  "That man…"  
  
"Saved your life," the four of them chimed in together.  
  
Hogan gaped.  "Yeah.  You're right.  He did."  He was quiet for a moment and then reached into his own pocket.  "Well I happen to have my own copy of that right here.  I did promise the Doc I'd hand it in, and I do intend to do just that."  _Even if it means more surgery._  "You guys can stop worrying.  Doc said that this should be cleared up easily," Hogan said indicating the right side of his face.  "Just a little more surgery."  He paused and tried to lighten up the moment, not wanting to dwell on this any more than they did. "Let's hope this time you won't have to assist.  Doc assured me that these folks would be able use anesthesia."  
  
Doctor Ballister arrived at the door to the cafeteria along with Sister Healey to overhear the last part of the men's conversation.  Sister Healey gasped beside him when she heard the Colonel talk about surgery without anesthesia.  
  
The five men turned at the noise, noticing for the first time they weren't alone any longer.  "I'm Doctor Rodney Ballister," the doctor said coming into the room.  "You must be Colonel Hogan?"  
  
Somewhat annoyed that they had been eaves dropped on Hogan replied, "Yes.  I was the last time I checked."    
  
"Sister Healey told me that she was concerned about your excessive weight loss and recommended to me that you should have a physical exam immediately.  So if you'll come with me we can do that," Ballister said indicating that Hogan should follow him.  "The four of you can go on back to the quarters arranged.  Sister Healey can show you."  
  
**_The four men didn't look like they were going to move…  
_**  
"Go on, guys," Hogan said quietly.  "I'll see you all later."  
  
"Colonel?" Kinch questioned.  
  
"I promise to be a good boy," Hogan replied with a slight grin.  
  
"Okay.  Come on guys.  We'll see you later, Colonel," Kinch replied leaving with Sister Healey.  
  
"This way, Colonel," Ballister led the way to an exam room.  After he closed the door behind his patient he said, "I have to apologize but I did overhear you and your men talking.  Is there something that you need to tell me?"  
  
Hogan sighed and then asked, pulling Freiling's note from his pocket, "Can you read German, Doctor?"  
  
"What?  No.  Of course not," Ballister answered.  
  
Hogan said, "I had hoped not to be the one to read this to you, Doctor." He paused taking a deep breath. "Oh well.  I guess instead of trying to find someone else to translate this for you, at this hour, I will tell you what it says.  I've spent the last six weeks under care of a doctor, recovering from multiple concurrent injuries from a single incident.  A gunshot wound, five broken ribs, multiple fractures to the skull, a concussion, severe headaches, a punctured lung, abdominal injuries and severe bruising.  I was unconscious for the first three days after the incident.  For the following three weeks, there was no medication of any kind available to aid in the healing process.  I'm happy to report that all of those injuries, save one, are mostly healed.  The excessive weight loss stopped three weeks ago, however the camp was rationed and I was unable to gain any of it back."  
  
Hogan paused and then continued, "Three weeks ago, it was discovered that I was suffering complications resulting from the fractures to the skull.  A severe infection and hematoma developed behind my right eye.  In the doctor's opinion, it was cause by a stray bone fragment. Also, during this period, I had lost the vision in my right eye for several days.  But fortunately, it was at this point that we discovered a source of penicillin.  After many days of heavy, frequent doses, the infection and hematoma subsided.  As the days passed, my vision returned slowly and I was able to distinguish light and shadows. My vision at this point is much improved, although it is still blurry." Hogan paused. "The doctor was worried that bone fragments might still be present and would need to be removed.  So.  Colonel Ballister.  That's where you come in."  
  
"Well.  Colonel Hogan." Ballister paused.  "Um.  Given your injuries, I would say you're now doing remarkably well.  How were you injured, Colonel?"  
  
"Sorry, Colonel.  I don't want to discuss it.  You can treat me without knowing how… or even why," Hogan replied unwilling to go into all of that now, as having just told the doctor the list of his injuries had brought back too many memories, telling of the beating would only make matters worse.    
  
"Okay, Colonel.  You don't have to talk about it.  We'll do a full physical tonight and I'll order some x-rays tomorrow to see where we stand.  Okay?" Ballister asked.  
  
"Let's get this over with," Hogan replied resigned and started to remove his flight suit.  
  
"I do have one more question for you, Colonel," Ballister said a little apprehensively.  
  
"Yes?" Hogan asked pausing and looking at the doctor askance.  
  
"When I overhead you talking to your men, you mentioned something about anesthesia?" Ballister did not want to believe what that comment might have meant.  
  
"Oh yeah.  You do have that here. Don't you?" Hogan asked somewhat sarcastically.   
  
"Of course we do.  I don't understand, Colonel," Ballister replied bewildered.  
  
"Good.  I've had surgery twice during the last six weeks.  Neither time was anesthesia available.  I had hoped to never repeat that experience again," Hogan replied.  
  
_Oh my God! This man has been through Hell.  He's lucky to still be alive after all of that. He reported to us that the Germans had not retaliated against their prisoners.  It appears hat perhaps it was only the Senior POW Officer who had taken the brunt of any retaliation._  "Don't worry, Colonel. We do have that here.  We'll take good care of you."  
  
"I'm glad to hear that," Hogan replied stripping of his flight suit.   
  
**_After Doctor Ballister had finished the exam on his patient…  
_**  
He realized that the Colonel had not left out one single injury.  All were still very apparent, though mostly healed.  The surgery performed was crude and would scar. It had obviously been done in a hurry, though he had to admit, with some apparent skill.  The facial fractures were only visible upon close examination.  It certainly appeared that surgery would be necessary, as the cheekbone on the right side of the Colonel's face appeared to be crushed and poorly healed.  "Okay Colonel.  We're done for tonight.  The x-rays scheduled for tomorrow will give us a clearer picture. You need to come back here for 0800.  After I've taken a look, we'll see where we have to go from there."  
  
"Okay, Doctor.  I'll be here," Hogan replied dressing again.  
  
"I'll show you where we've got quarters for you," Ballister said.  "You're in the hanger that we've converted for your men.  Sorry that we couldn't provide you with your own room."  
  
"Doc.  I've lived on top of those men for the last three years.  It really doesn't matter to me.  In fact, I would prefer to stay with them.  Lead the way," Hogan replied.  
  
**End of Third Quarter**  
  



	4. Fourth Quarter

This story chronicles what we felt were the last days of WWII in Luft Stalag 13.  The major historical events that we wrote about actually happened, though admittedly we took certain liberties on how they happened. The familiar Hogan's Heroes characters aren't ours; the rest are.  But they are free to use if you so wish. (Our only requirement here is that you do not use Toby unless you treat his character with tender loving care! He represents an important aspect of, or insight into, the authors' lives.) _ Hint… There will be a test later… Who is Toby?_   
  
**End Game  
Fourth Quarter  
**  
**London, England, Fieldstone US Army Airbase,   
Hanger Bay Six,   
May 12, 1945, 2030 Hours  
**  
It had been an hour since Kinch, Carter, LeBeau and Newkirk had been escorted back to the hanger deck and assigned places to sleep. It hadn't taken long for everyone to notice that Colonel Hogan wasn't with them.  Almost everyone began approaching and asking of his condition.  Kinch decided to make an announcement and told everyone that the Colonel was pushed up the ladder for a complete physical.  As everyone became quiet, Kinch tried to tell them that it was just the residual weight loss that the doctors were worried about.  But no one was buying that story, so they all just took Kinch's word and waited themselves for the Colonel's return.  
  
**_Just an hour and a half later…  
_**  
Ballister showed Hogan to hanger bay six.  "There should be an empty cot in here for you, Colonel.  Try to get some rest.  I'll see you in the morning."  
  
"Thanks," Hogan replied as he opened the door and entered the hanger.  It was one large room. There were 20 rows of cots.  One assumed each row had 125 cots in them.  2500 men.  The whole population of Stalag 13 was housed in this one massive building.  His entrance didn't go unnoticed.    
  
"The Colonel's here!" someone yelled out and suddenly he was surrounded by many of his men.  
  
"Whoa, fellas! Give a guy a break.  Everything is ok.  I need to go back there for 0800.  They're going to run some more tests.  This is nothing that I didn't expect.  Everything is going to be okay," Hogan said to his men with a smile.  "Go on now. Go back to bed.  But first, does anyone know where there's an empty cot in this room?!"  
  
Kinch appeared at his side.  "It's this way, Colonel."  
  
Hogan followed Kinch to his cot as the men in the room settled back down.  Hogan plopped onto the cot, kicked off his shoes, and was asleep before they hit the floor.  
  
**London, England, Fieldstone US Army Airbase,   
Officers Quarters,   
May 12, 1945, 2200 Hours  
**  
Rodney Ballister pounded on Colonel Wright's door.  There wasn't a light on in the house, obviously Steve and his wife Carol had already gone to bed.  After what seemed an eternity the porch light went on and Steve came to the door, his robe tied around his waist.  
  
"Rodney!" Steve Wright said surprised.  "What are you doing here at this hour?"  
  
"I need to talk with you.  Can I come in?" Ballister said.  
  
"Sure.  Come in."  Steve opened the door and led the way into the sitting room.  "What's the problem?"  
  
"Your orders were to inform you of any serious problems we encountered.  I just finished a full physical exam on the Senior Officer, Colonel Hogan," Rodney said shaking his head.  
  
"Is there something really wrong, Rodney?  I know he didn't look good when he arrived, but he seemed okay," Steve asked.  
  
"The nurses reported that the Colonel was drastically underweight.  That's enough to warrant an immediate full exam.  From my examination, it appears that Colonel Hogan has recently been beaten to within an inch of his life.  He is lucky to be recovering at all.  His injuries were fairly extensive.  How he is still alive and walking is beyond me. But he is definitely in the worst physical condition of the entire group," Ballister reported.   
  
"Did he tell you how it happened, Rodney?" Steve demanded appalled.  
  
"No, he refused," Ballister replied.  "I didn't push it, he's been through enough."  
  
"Damn.  I knew Rob Hogan before he was shot down.  When I found out this morning that he was the Senior Officer, I couldn't believe that Rob would have stayed as a POW for three years.  The man had never been easily manipulated.  He got what he wanted, when he wanted it.  I thought it would have taken a compelling reason to make him stay put."  Steve swallowed.  "Do you think this was an isolated occurrence?"  
  
"I don't know.  I will be taking x-rays at 0800 tomorrow.  The pictures will show any indication of prior injuries," Ballister said.  "But it wouldn't surprise me that this man was continuously punished for any infraction of his men, and perhaps even threatened with punishment as security against attempted escapes."  
  
"Don't go jumping to any conclusions until you take those pictures.  I'll talk to the Colonel in the morning and see if he'll tell me anything.  In the meantime I'll inform General Creighton. When he contacts headquarters in the morning anyway, he can report this then," Wright offered.  "Inform me what you discover, Doctor."  
  
"Yes, sir," Ballister replied standing to leave.  
  
"Good night Rodney," Wright replied.  _Damn.  If what Rodney believes is true, Rob has lived through three years of absolute hell._  Wright headed back to his bedroom, knowing that sleep was going to be a long time coming for him tonight.  
  
**London, England, Fieldstone US Army Airbase,   
Outside Hanger Bay Six,   
May 13, 1945, 0630 Hours  
  
**Colonel Wright had called General Creighton first thing after revelry was blown at dawn.  He had told the General of his late night visit from Doctor Ballister and what was feared and that they would know for certain later on today.  Steve glanced out his office window, noticing that many of the former POWs were already sitting around outside hanger bay six.  _Hogan must be awake, by now. Maybe I can speak with him before he sees Rodney again._    
  
Steve left his office, and walked across the road heading toward the door to the hanger.  As he approached the door three of the men who were sitting around jumped up and blocked his path.  "Can we help you with something, Colonel?" Lieutenant Jenkins asked.  
  
"No thank you.  I was just going to speak with Colonel Hogan," Wright replied moving to go past the men.  
  
"Oh.  Excuse me, sir.  The Colonel is sleeping right now.  If you care to wait, he'll be up by 0745," the same man replied.    
  
Wright noticed that there were now significantly more men between him and the door.  
  
"I need to speak with him now.  Stand aside, Lieutenant," Wright ordered.  
  
"We can't do that, sir.  Our standing orders have been if the Colonel's sleeping, then we are to let him sleep.  I'm sorry, sir. You will have to wait," the same man replied again.    
  
"This is preposterous!" Wright exclaimed.  "I order you to all stand aside."  
  
"Impossible.  We can not let you pass," the Lieutenant, who had initiated all this, said.    
  
Wright noticed the man was not the least bit nervous about facing down a superior officer.  
  
**_Luckily just inside the hanger…  
_**  
Colonel Hogan had reached the door in time to over hear his men telling Colonel Wright about the standing order not to wake him. _Kinch's order. They'll never give up coddling me._  He decided that he'd better break it up before everyone got court-martialed.  He opened the door only to find ten of his men blocking the entrance.  "What is going on out here?" Hogan asked yawning and trying to look like he'd just been awakened.   
  
His men immediately moved out of his way.  
  
"Colonel Hogan.  Your men refused me entrance to the hanger.  This is completely unacceptable.  I need to talk with you," Wright said angry.  
  
"Oh."  Hogan paused and turned to Jenkins who was standing nearest to Colonel Wright.  "Lieutenant Jenkins.  You mean to tell me, that you didn't explain my standing order to the Colonel?" Hogan asked commandingly and saw the smiles appear on the faces of his men that were standing behind Colonel Wright.  
  
"Yes, sir.  I tried.  He was very insistent.  I'm sorry our discussion woke you, sir," Jenkins replied knowing that as angry as Hogan sounded, he was not angry. He was playing along, as that order had never been Hogan's.  _It was Kinch's.  
_  
"Thank you, Lieutenant… for trying," Hogan turned to Wright.  "So.  Colonel Wright.  Was there some part of 'don't wake me up', that you didn't understand?" Hogan said rather incredulous.    
  
Wright was flabbergasted, never expecting this confrontation.  And he couldn't think of a response.    
  
Hogan sighed.  "All right, Colonel.  I'm awake now.  What did you want?"  
  
"Can I speak with you in private, Colonel Hogan?" Wright replied very annoyed.  "Would you accompany me to my office."  
  
"We'll need to make a detour through the chow line.  I haven't eaten yet," Hogan replied starting off in that direction.  
  
Wright stood for a moment totally astonished and then caught up with the other officer quickly.  "Uh.  Of course. It's this way.  Do you mind if we talk on the way?"  
  
"No.  Go ahead," Hogan replied amused, wanting to have some fun before letting Steve off the hook.   
  
As they entered the mess hall, Wright brought up the only thing he was willing to discuss in the open, "I was informed by Major Campbell, the head of security here, that your men have set up a 24-hour rotation to guard that cargo you brought in.  They won't let the security here do their job.  They have continuously denied any inspection of the cargo by my men."   
  
"And that's a problem, Colonel Wright?" Hogan questioned while dishing up some cereal.  "I did tell Sergeant Marlow that he was in charge, so that's not unexpected. My men are very capable Colonel.  I'm sure if Sergeant Marlow needed your men's help, he would have asked."  
  
"That's not the point, Hogan. You are not their final authority any longer.  You and your men are back in the regular military now. You all have to adhere to the proper chain of command," Wright said becoming livid.  
  
Hogan shrugged.  "From where I sit, Colonel, my men are doing exactly that.  They are doing their jobs and doing them well."  Hogan paused then said evenly, "I will defend their actions."  
  
"You and your men don't have jobs any longer, Colonel.  You've been POWs for Christ sake!" Wright exploded.    
  
"What is that supposed to mean, Colonel?" Hogan replied annoyed with Wright.  He couldn't tell him what they were really doing, nor could he explain what exactly was in that cargo he'd brought back with him.  But he could have a great deal of fun by confusing the guy.  "From my perspective they haven't done anything wrong.  If you have a problem, you've got it with me.  My men are only responding to my orders, whether directly or indirectly."  
  
"How can someone respond to an indirect order?" Wright asked exasperated.  "What the Hell does that mean?"  
  
Hogan actually smiled and decided to let Steve off the hook.  "Look, Steve.  I've been with these guys for a long time.  We've been through a lot together.  Don't give them any grief.  The only way we've stayed alive was to learn non-verbal communication.  My men take their jobs seriously.  I told Sergeant Marlow yesterday he was in charge of that cargo.  Therefore, until I say something different, he's in charge of that cargo.  What he needs, he has the authority to demand from the other men.  In terms of not being allowed in the hanger this morning, I told my men when I got back last night that I had an appointment with the doctor this morning at 0800.  They took that to mean that I needed to be awake at 0755, not before, unless I woke up on my own."  
  
"I don't get this, Rob.  You guys were POWs.  What the hell was so important that you and your men had to take your jobs seriously?  What jobs?" Wright demanded and then he paused.  _Something just isn't right here._  "Admittedly your men weren't what we were expecting from POWs.  We've been hearing horror stories about how POWs were treated.  According to Doctor Ballister you are the only man in your group that fits that description."  
  
Hogan sighed, rising to stack his empty plate and make a hasty retreat.  "So.  A lot has changed in three years then.  Whatever happened to doctor/patient confidentiality?  If you'll excuse me, Colonel."  Hogan walked away glancing at his watch.  He had enough time to go and check with Sergeant Marlow about their cargo before going to see Ballister.  
  
**_Wright stared after Hogan in total shock…  
_**  
_What the Hell just happened? Hogan only arrived here yesterday, and yet he seems to hold more control of this base than I do!  My men are being denied access to storage. I'm being denied access to Hanger Bay Six.  And he just walked away from me.  I didn't even get a chance to ask him what I had gone to see him about in the first place! I need to tell General Creighton about this before he makes his phone call to headquarters.  
_  
**London, England, Fieldstone US Army Airbase,   
General Creighton's Office,   
May 13, 1945, 0730 Hours  
**  
Colonel Wright arrived in General Creighton's office and began complaining about the POWs, especially the Senior Officer.  The POWs had apparently taken charge of the cargo they had brought with them from Germany, not allowing any access whatsoever to it by any base personnel.  Wright also complained that Hogan's men had denied him access to hanger bay six on the excuse that Hogan was asleep.  Then when Hogan had come outside, he had dressed down Wright, and not his men.  Hogan had been obstinate and contrary since the moment he arrived. His first actions off the plane were to ignore the base personnel and immediately report to his men. He then argued about the cargo, until his men had control.  Even the doctor said the man had controlled most of their conversation too. Then he just did the same thing to Wright.   
  
_The man is impossible. He certainly doesn't seem like the cowed POW that Ballister is purporting him to be,_ thought Wright.  
  
General Creighton was now very concerned after listening to Colonel Wright's tirade.  Hogan had been here less than 24 hours and already the former POW had his staff officers uneasy.  The General had never expected the man to be so difficult.  As he sat contemplating the Senior POW Officer, his phone rang.  He picked it up and his secretary told him that General Simpson from Headquarters was on the line.  
  
"What is the news, General Creighton?  Has everyone arrived safely?" Simpson asked with no preamble.  
  
"Yes, sir.  Everyone is accounted for.  There are some very minor injuries to several people.  Most are in good to decent shape.  There is only one whose condition warrants concern, the Senior Officer, Colonel Hogan," Creighton reported.  
  
"How is he?" Simpson asked concerned.  _Finally I will learn the extent of Hogan's injuries.  
_  
"Apparently he had been shot and subjected to a vicious beating, six weeks ago.  The injuries he suffered were extensive, but he has made a reasonable recovery.  Doctor Ballister expects to do some follow-up surgery with the Colonel.  The doctor seems to think that it won't be too drastic, and that the Colonel should recover completely.  But, sir, the doctor is very concerned that this beating wasn't a one-time event.  The doctor will be able to determine more this morning after some tests," Creighton reported. "As Colonel Hogan is the only POW with significant injuries, we think he may have taken the brunt of any punishment dealt in that camp."  
  
"Did Colonel Hogan tell you that, General?" Simpson asked dubiously.  _As far as I know, that dreadful incident with the Gestapo is the only time something like that occurred.  Hogan was in my office for a briefing, just six months ago.  He had looked healthy enough then, these men are just jumping to conclusions.   
_  
"No, sir. Colonel Hogan has refused to discuss how he received his injuries," Creighton replied.    
  
"Well, General.  If that's the case, your men can do whatever follow-up Hogan submits to.  Other than that the Colonel's injuries are not to be discussed further.  Is that clear General?" Simpson ordered.  
  
"Of course, sir," Creighton replied quietly. "Sir.  We do have another issue with the POWs."  
  
"And that is?" Simpson asked, not at all surprised.   
  
"Sir.  In the less than twenty-four hours that he's been here, Colonel Hogan seems to have made my staff very uneasy.  He's been stubborn and contrary, acting like he's in command here. His men have commandeered the hanger where we stored the cargo that he brought back with him.  They will not let any base personnel within shouting distance of it.  And earlier today, Hogan's men had denied us entry into the hanger they are being housed in, on the pretense that Colonel Hogan was sleeping.  When my officer complained to Colonel Hogan, the Colonel told him that his men were only doing their jobs.  We don't know how we should respond, General," Creighton replied.  
  
Simpson chuckled inwardly, imagining what it would be like if Hogan had been at the base for three years, never mind 24 hours.  "Well General.  You should know now, that Colonel Hogan has my full authority to do what he pleases.  Anything he wants, he gets.  Is that understood, General?"  
  
"Yes, sir, but… but," stammered General Creighton, as that was not the reply he had been expecting.  No one on his staff had said anything to Hogan about his conduct, out of respect for what he and his men had apparently been through.  But he knew Colonel Wright would only bend so far before Hogan would be facing charges.  
  
"No buts General. My order stands," Simpson stated adamantly. "When will I be able to see Colonel Hogan and his men?"  
  
"You want to personally meet Hogan and his men, sir?" Creighton questioned, taken aback by Simpson total acceptance of Hogan's antics.  
  
"That's what I said, General.  Is there a problem with that?" Simpson asked.  
  
"No, sir.  At last report, Doctor Ballister believes that he will be able to lift the quarantine around these men tomorrow morning.  There are still a lot of men to be seen, but the men are in good shape," Creighton replied.  
  
"Excellent.  Though I had hoped to be able to meet with Hogan sooner than that.  You will need to arrange for him to call me today as soon as possible," Simpson ordered.  
  
"Yes, sir.  He will be occupied for most of the morning at least, General," Creighton replied totally surprised by the request.  "I will see to it that he does call you when he is released from the hospital."  
  
"Very good.  I will leave orders for that call to be put through immediately.  You are to make sure I'm interrupted for that call," Simpson said.  "I'll be arriving at 1200 Hours tomorrow. At that time I will want a private meeting set up with Colonel Hogan. My staff will be joining me, as well as a number of other Allied Command personnel. They will be arriving at 1300.  I expect a full assembly of your base.  Please have Colonel Hogan's men front and center. We will be bringing a transport with us to relieve Colonel Hogan of his cargo.  I will also need to commandeer about 20 offices for an indeterminate amount of time.  Colonel Hogan and his men will need to be debriefed before we can rotate them out and home," Simpson ordered.  
  
"A full assembly, sir?" Creighton asked.  "Is there something I should know, sir?"  
  
"A full assembly, General.  And I believe you will understand everything tomorrow," Simpson replied.  
  
"Yes, sir.  We'll be ready for you."  Creighton hung up his phone and turned to Colonel Wright, with a look of incredulity.  
  
"What did the General say?" Wright asked wearily.  
  
"Colonel Wright, from this point on, Colonel Hogan has been given General Simpson's full authority to do as he pleases. He wants a full base assembly tomorrow at 1300 Hours.  He said that everything would be made clear at that point. Can you let the men know of the assembly? General Simpson wanted Hogan's men, front and center of the assembly," General Creighton said. "Also clear out 20 offices, Allied High Command will be using them to debrief the POWs."  
  
"Yes, sir," Wright answered as he left the office. _What the hell is going on here?  
_  
**London, England, Fieldstone US Army Airbase,   
Medical Facility,   
May 13, 1945, 0755 Hours  
**  
Colonel Ballister was told that Colonel Hogan was waiting for him in exam room ten.  As he entered the exam room though, he found Colonel Hogan in a passionate embrace with Beth Newton, one of the civilian nurses on staff.  He stood quietly for a moment, and then cleared his throat when it looked like their embrace would continue forever.   
  
Finally, Hogan broke the embrace and said breathless, "Maybe we continue this at another time Beth?"  His heart was pounding and his pulse was racing, as he never expected to have the physical and emotional reaction to Beth that he was now having.  Actually he had never expected to see her… ever again. Now all he wanted to do was to hold her in his arms, as if nothing else mattered.    
  
"Anytime, Rob.  Anytime at all," Beth replied, trembling with anticipation and just as breathless. _I haven't seen that man in three years, and he still can make me weak in the knees._  Hogan and Beth had been seeing each other before he had disappeared three years ago.  When Beth saw him this morning, she was shocked at how thin he was, but Rob had immediately turned on the charm. The next thing Beth knew, she was in Rob's arms, and felt that she was exactly where she should be.  
  
"Beth, can you excuse us for a minute.  I need to talk to Doctor Ballister alone," Hogan asked quietly, still overwhelmed by the passionate embrace.    
  
"Of course, Rob," she said smiling, slowly leaving the exam room, her eyes still locked on Rob's as she closed the door behind her.    
  
After Hogan watched that door close behind Beth, he was finally able to regain enough of his composure, so that when he turned to Ballister his entire demeanor had changed.  Laying into the doctor he confronted, "What the hell happened to doctor/patient confidentiality, Ballister?  I don't appreciate having your commanding officer confront me about my condition."  
  
Ballister had actually stood his ground, but only because Colonel Hogan had him so mystified.  _He is such an enigma._ "Colonel.  My orders were to inform Colonel Wright of anything out of the ordinary. At first, the extraordinary thing was that your men were all in decent shape.  It's sad to say, but too many POWs have returned home in deplorable condition.  We had expected the same of your men. We were relieved when that wasn't the case, but then you showed up in my office last night." Ballister indicated Hogan with a wave of his hand. "Your report said that there was no retaliation from the German soldiers in your camp. I'm sorry Colonel.  It's quite obvious, that you've been subjected to a brutal beating, not to mention being shot.  I told Colonel Wright that I was afraid that that beating was not the only one.  I was to confirm that with the x-rays today. They will tell me if you had older similar injuries," Ballister said accusingly.  
  
Hogan was still angry, but tried to understand the doctor's perspective. _What would I think in this situation? Probably the same._  "Well Colonel.  I can assure you that that incident was a one-time event.  My report stands as is, the guards at Stalag 13 were not responsible." He paused. "So let's get on with the x-rays. You'll find nothing that I didn't explain to you last night."  
  
"Okay, Colonel. This way," Ballister said.  
  
**_Close to an hour later…  
_**  
"We'll know the results in a couple of hours, Colonel," Ballister explained.  "I'll let you know if the expected surgery is necessary.  But as I said, I still think you will need surgery, even if it is to restructure the cheekbone.  We're all set here. You can go get some rest, Colonel."   
  
As Hogan started to leave the exam room, Ballister said quietly, "Colonel Hogan." When Hogan turned back Ballister continued, "I want you to know, that I didn't mean to press you on what happened. I was worried that if what I had thought, was indeed true, that you would need more than medical help to cope with the after effects." Ballister paused. "Regardless of what those x-rays show, Colonel.  If you ever need someone to talk too, I will guarantee you your doctor/patient confidentiality."  
  
Hogan nodded at Ballister and left the exam room and caught a glimpse of Beth sitting at the nursing station. He approached quietly, kissed her on the cheek, and left the building without another word.   
  
**_Although as Hogan traversed the base on his way back to Hanger Bay Six…  
_**  
He was stopped by a group of five officers, all of who came to attention, and saluted smartly.  One came forward saying, "Colonel Hogan.  I'm sure you don't remember us, but we've all at one time or another been processed through Stalag 13. When we had heard that you and your men were being transferred here. We wanted to make sure we got to say thank you in person."   
  
"Well, gentlemen.  I don't know what to say." Hogan reached out and shook the hand of each man. "You're welcome. I'm glad we were there to help.  By the way… how did you five find each other? It was not supposed to get around."  
  
"Oh Colonel, you didn't have to worry.  Everyone's story was the same. We were rescued by German civilians and sent along an underground network. Not once was it ever mentioned that a POW camp was involved, but by saying that our rescues were something straight out a fairy tale was how the connection was made.  We've all kept your secret, sir," the officer replied.  
  
"Then I have as much reason to thank you.  If you had given up any information, the lives of my men and I would have been forfeit." Hogan came to attention and saluted the five men. "Please keep in mind, that it's still a secret, gentlemen."   
  
**_From just across the compound…  
_**  
Colonel Wright, looking out his office window, noticed that five of his pilots had stopped and were talking to Colonel Hogan. He watched as each shook his hand, had a short conversation and quickly dispersed after saluting Hogan. _He's even winning over my men. What is it with this guy?    
_  
**London, England, Fieldstone US Army Airbase,   
General Creighton's Office,   
May 13, 1945, 1030 Hours  
**  
Creighton noted the look of frustration on the faces of his staff.  "Has Colonel Hogan managed to make you guys that uncomfortable?"   
  
"I just don't understand Hogan, General," said Ballister. "One minute, he's in my office, telling me, very seriously about some massive trauma that he's lived through.  Then this morning, I found him locked in an intimate embrace with one of the nurses.  If I hadn't interrupted, God knows how far it would have gone.  Then when he finally turned away from the nurse, he lambasted me for telling you and Colonel Wright about his condition.  I can't figure him out.  And now he and his men have 'free reign' over this base.  I just don't get it, General.  These men were POWs, but you wouldn't know it from their actions."  
  
"Ballister is right, General. Hogan and his men are loose cannons, as all the stuff we talked about this morning can attest. They have no respect for authority.  I can't understand what the big brass would be doing here.  Maybe some public relations coup, these men returning together from one of the only POW camps to remain intact. Come to think of it, that's probably it. These men were at Stalag 13, it was purported to be the toughest POW camp in all of Germany. No one had ever successfully escaped from that camp," said Colonel Wright.    
  
"Then they've had it rough, Colonel. Maybe they're all just letting off some steam," Creighton said.  "Ballister, you said you didn't find any evidence of continued abuse of the Senior POW Officer.  Maybe the threat was always there and the men were loyal enough to Colonel Hogan not to try and escape.  It would explain the loyalty we've seen."   
  
"Possibly, General, but these guys don't act like any POW that I've ever heard of," Ballister replied shaking his head.  
  
"Yes.  I've noticed.  I had actually thought it strange that General Simpson needed to debrief all these men, before they are sent home. I don't remember that being standard procedure for all POWs.  Maybe there is something else going on.  Stalag 13 was in the Hammelburg area right?" Creighton observed.  
  
"Yes, sir," answered Colonel Wright.   
  
"Isn't that the area where the underground network was most concentrated?  The agent, Papa Bear had supposedly run his operation from there.  And if even half of the propaganda about Papa Bear is true, it seems to me that there would have been escapes from that Luft Stalag. But then again, as we discussed these men are very loyal, they may not have tried," Creighton pondered.  
  
Colonel Ballister interjected.  "If the underground network was that extensive in that area, do you think that Hogan and his men were involved with the underground? Or maybe they just have information that the brass want to know."  
  
"Well, I guess we'll find out very soon. I've ordered Colonel Hogan to join us at this meeting, to make his call to General Simpson.  After that I'll see what he will tell me. Irregardless I can't let his behavior continue to disrupt the normal functioning of this base," said Creighton.   
  
**_From just down the hall…  
_**  
Colonel Hogan wended his way to General Creighton's office after receiving a rather abrupt summons.  He imagined that Wright and Ballister had already given the General an earful about his conduct since arriving.  He knew that he had given the officers on this base some grief, but it was all done to keep the officers off-balance.  _Same old story, but instead of Germans, it's the Allies this time. Will it ever stop?   
_  
Colonel Wright and Colonel Ballister were indeed already in General Creighton's office when Hogan arrived. "Colonel Robert Hogan. Reporting as ordered, sir," he said saluting.  
  
Creighton returned the salute. "Have a seat, Colonel Hogan."   
  
Hogan took the seat closest to him. "Thank you, sir.  Don't mind if I do."  He sat casually, crossing his legs. "What can I do for you, General?" Hogan asked innocently.  
  
Creighton said, "First, Hogan.  I want you to know that I received a call earlier this morning from General Simpson at Allied High Command.  He will be here tomorrow at 1200 Hours.  He wants to meet with you privately.  At 1300 Hours there will be a full base assembly. General Simpson requested that your men assemble in front of my base personnel.  He made no mention to us for the reason for the assembly, but we are to expect a number of high-ranking personnel from Allied High Command.  He also made it clear to me that you and your men are to have free access to anything you need.  We are not to deny any of your requests.  Also he was going to have a transport take over all that cargo."   
  
"Thank you, General.  I'll let my men know.  Is that all, sir?" Hogan asked innocently, getting up as if to leave.  He started to turn from Creighton and headed for the door.    
  
"No, Colonel Hogan.  You are expected to contact General Simpson," Creighton replied, taken aback that Hogan had the gaul to get up and leave without getting his reply first.  "I've taken the liberty of having my secretary place your call."  
  
"Why thank you, General.  That makes it very convenient.  May I take it here then?" Hogan said wondering if these men should be present while he talked to Simpson for the first time.  
  
The phone rang and Creighton picked it up.  "General Simpson for you, Colonel," he said handing off the phone to Hogan.  
  
"Good morning, General," Hogan said.  "Is there something I can do for you?"  
  
"First off.  Welcome in from the cold, Hogan," Simpson said relieved to actually hear the agent's voice.  He had imagined many horrible things over the past six-weeks.  
  
"Thank you, sir," Hogan replied.  "It is good to be back on friendly soil."  
  
Simpson laughed a little.  "At least you don't have to get back for roll-call this time."  
  
"There is a lot to be said for that, General," Hogan agreed.    
  
"So you're not alone there, are you?" Simpson asked.  
  
"No, sir," Hogan replied.  
  
 "It's okay. I wanted to talk to you now, because I received several complaints from the powers that be at the base regarding you, this morning.  It seems you have been accused of conduct unbecoming an officer. You seem to have a lack of respect for authority.  You are obstinate and contrary. Your men also have been accused of not abiding by the proper chain of command.  Not to mention that you're making them completely nuts.  They have no clue how to respond to your rebelliousness," Simpson told Hogan with a chuckle.  "And you've only been there 24 hours!  I really feel bad for the Kommandant of Stalag 13.  He had to deal with you and your men for more than three years!"    
  
"Should I take that as a compliment, sir?  You have to realize that it will be a hard habit to break," Hogan replied with a grin.  "But General, you should know it took almost a week to get this to this point at Stalag 13.  I guess I've gotten better with practice."  
  
Simpson laughed outright.  "Hogan, you are impossible.  It was a damned good thing you were on our side!  But I want you to know that you don't have to play that game any longer.  Tomorrow when I arrive I intend to publicly announce your operation.  It will no longer be a secret, and you and your men will get the recognition that you all deserve.  The base officials will know tomorrow.  So to save me from bailing you out of the guard house tomorrow morning, you may tell them today if you so choose."  
  
"Everything?" Hogan asked astonished.  Never had he thought that Allied High Command would declassify his operation.  "Are you sure?"  
  
"Everything, Hogan.  You can explain your operation, but no specifics," Simpson ordered.  
  
"Yes, sir.  I really can't believe this, General.  It will certainly make it easier on my men.  They won't have to pretend any longer.  Thank you very much, sir," Hogan said gratefully.  
  
"You're welcome, Hogan.  You deserve it. And so do your men.  Without Papa Bear I doubt we would have won the war," Simpson said honestly.  
  
"We were just doing our jobs, General," Hogan replied modestly.  "Anyone else in our position would have done the same, sir."    
  
"I doubt that, Hogan.  No one else would have the gumption to take on the entire German War Machine from a POW camp… and succeed," Simpson replied.    
  
"It wouldn't have been possible without my men, sir.  But thank you," Hogan replied.  
  
"Well.  That's all what I wanted to say to you.  Take it easy and get some rest.  I'll see you tomorrow at noon," Simpson said.  
  
"Yes, sir," Hogan replied.  
  
"By the way," said Simpson. "Congratulations."  
  
"Congratulations?" Hogan asked.  
  
"Yes, congratulations, General Robert Hogan.  It won't be a secret tomorrow.  Get used to it. Besides those promotions have been in effect for a long time.  Don't hesitate in pulling rank at the base, if you need too," Simpson replied.  
  
"Yes, sir.  Thank you.  I'll see you tomorrow then," Hogan replied and hung up the phone with a relieved expression on his face.  He sighed and sat back down in the chair behind him.   
  
Creighton and his men had sat quietly listening to Hogan's one-sided conversation. _It's very apparent that General Simpson wasn't dressing Hogan down for his conduct!  Hogan and his men seemed to be being congratulated for some unspecified reason. And Hogan appears to be relieved. I wonder what he just got away with?  
_  
Hogan suddenly stood, and offered a salute to Creighton.  "Thank you for letting me use the phone.  I'll be on my way now.  Good day, gentlemen."  Hogan started towards the door, wanting to see what their reaction was going to be.  _If I can get out of here without telling them, I'm going to.  
_  
"Wait, Colonel Hogan.  What the Hell's going on?" Creighton demanded.  "I will not let you walk out of here without telling me what that was all about."  
  
Both Wright and Ballister had stood to block Hogan's way out of the office.  Hogan sighed and turned back to face Creighton.  _If I can't walk out of here without explaining to them, I'm going to have some fun doing it my way._  "Well gentleman.  My conversation with General Simpson was very enlightening.  He told me that you accused me of conduct unbecoming an officer.  It seems that I have a total lack of respect for authority as well as being obstinate and contrary.  You have accused my men of not abiding by the proper chain of command."  Hogan paused enjoying the looks on their faces.  "I want you to know that I don't appreciate you going over my head like that.  If you had a problem with my men and I, you should have come to me directly."  
  
"Colonel Hogan.  You are back in the real military now.  I don't know what you're used to, but we do things here by the book here.  I do not intend to sit here and take abuse from a junior officer," Creighton pointed out angrily.  
  
An uncontrolled surge of euphoria hit Hogan and he laughed out loud.  _Ha! Junior Officer! Should I tell them? I can't believe I can actually admit to what we've been doing. My men will be ecstatic. Wow, three years of stress, gone. Really gone._  Hogan noticed that a very angry Colonel Wright had made a move in his direction.  Hogan held up his hand to stop Wright's approach.  Still smiling he said, "Whoa, Steve.  I'm sorry, gentlemen.  Really I am. Give me a moment.  I'll explain everything. You just don't understand what that phone call will mean to my men." _And me!_   
  
Hogan took a deep breath, composed himself, and again sat back down in his chair.  "As General Simpson just pointed out to me. I don't have to play games any longer.  But it's a very hard habit to break. It's the only way my men and I survived for the past three years."   
  
"What do you mean?" Creighton demanded motioning for Wright to back off.  _Colonel Hogan is a certifiable nut!  
_  
_This explanation will take some time._ "Well gentleman," Hogan began. "First of all. I should explain something to you.  So, as not to continue our relationship on the wrong foot, you need to know that I out-rank all three of you.  I've been a two-star General for 1-½ years.  This will be publicly acknowledged at the assembly tomorrow.  As to my men and I, we never thought we could publicly acknowledge our operation.  But, General Simpson just gave me permission to tell you about what my men and I have been doing.  We've been working undercover as an intelligence unit for the past 43 months.  My code name was Papa Bear.  General Simpson will also be publicly acknowledging our operation tomorrow as well."    
  
Hogan grinned when he saw their three astonished faces.   
  
"I want to thank you all for putting up with some frustrations in the past 24 hours.  My men and I still have one more duty to perform here.  That cargo is very important and must remain safe.  My men were never going to allow anyone near it, regardless of the pressure from you.  Since our cover story was 'returning POWs', we had to work together to keep you off balance, so that our true intentions would not be disclosed.  It's one of the things we do best.  Up until five minutes ago, our operation was top secret, never to be disclosed.  We never thought we would be able to tell you or anyone else for that matter.  The more confused and annoyed we made you, the less likely you were to find out exactly what we were doing," Hogan explained.  
  
"You were Papa Bear?"  Creighton repeated.  "How the hell did you do that?  Captain Smithers reported that you had indeed come from a POW camp!"  
  
"Stalag 13 was our base of operations.  We were POWs, General.  All of us.  We were captured and sent to Stalag 13 as POWs.  Once there we worked out a plan to take advantage of the unique situation we found ourselves in.  I'm sure you heard all of the propaganda that was released surrounding Stalag 13.  That it was the toughest POW camp in all of Germany.  It never had a successful escape.  That was only because I didn't allow escapes from the men stationed at Stalag 13.  Our job was to move other escaped prisoners back to England.  We sent 2,492 Allied flyers home, we rescued 873 civilians, and we helped 1,802 defectors out of Germany.  It was an extremely busy 1,289 days," Hogan explained. "We also doubled as an espionage and sabotage unit as well, doing what we could to undermine the German War Effort."  
  
"That's unbelievable, Hogan," said Creighton unsure of whether to believe this guy or not. _Why would he lie?  Confirmation is just a phone call away._    
  
Wright and Ballister sat in stunned silence, not sure how to respond at all.    
  
Hogan continued, "You'll all be glad to know, that once we've turned that cargo over to Allied High Command safely, things will settle down.  My men and I are not rebels, gentlemen.  It's just that we've had to live under some very stressful situations for over three years.  To survive, we had to be creative, free thinkers.  My men had all volunteered to stay with me.  I've given them a lot of leeway.  But, I can assure you that from tomorrow on, you shouldn't expect any more problems from us."   
  
Hogan paused and then continued with a smirk, "Although gentlemen, trying to wake me up may still be a problem. Since my injuries, my men have taken to coddling their Senior Officer." Hogan smiled. "I apologize for their zeal this morning.  I probably shouldn't have gone along with that charade.  I myself have been fighting their coddling for weeks.  But it was worth seeing the look on their faces when I gave in and supported their decision to stand up to you, Colonel Wright."    
  
"You seem to have a unique relationship with your men, Hogan. I envy you that ease of interaction," Wright said. "I never even caught a glimpse of your conspiracy this morning. It truly appeared that the order had come from you."   
  
"Believe me.  That 'unique relationship' was the only thing that stood between life and death for us," said Hogan.  
  
"Colonel Hogan.  I'm sorry, General Hogan," said Ballister.  "Are you willing to tell us how you were injured?  From what you told us, you seemed to have a lot of control over Stalag 13. You keep reiterating that the guards there were not responsible. What happened?" Ballister noticed the closed look that came over Hogan's face.  _That was probably the wrong question to ask.  
_  
Creighton interjected having also seen the closed look on Hogan's face, "Ballister.  You've overstepped your boundary. General Hogan doesn't have to answer that."   
  
"That's all right, General Creighton. I'll answer his question." Hogan stood and walked to the other side of the room and stood quietly for a moment. Finally he turned and faced the doctor. "You really know how to put a damper on things, Ballister," Hogan said quietly. "My injuries were a result of a firefight with the Gestapo as well as a subsequent interrogation on the very same evening. I don't know what you have heard about Gestapo interrogation techniques, gentlemen. But I had to assume my life was forfeit at that point." Hogan paused, taking a deep breath. "My butt was pulled from the fire, literally seconds before I would have been silenced for good with a bullet to the head." Hogan paused again and turned away from the three men. He took a deep breath and sighed heavily. When he turned back he said. "I'm sorry." Again he sighed. "That was the closest we ever came to blowing the whole operation, but luckily they garnered no proof from the interrogation."  
  
"I'm sorry," said Ballister exchanging a sickened glance with the other two officers in the room.  He wanted to throw-up.  He was the only one, other than Hogan, that knew the extent of Hogan's injuries. The report he had made to the other two had been just a quick summary.  Having actually examined Hogan gave him a different perspective.  _Hogan's one tough bastard to have survived all that.  
_  
"Well it's over.  My men and I survived relatively unscathed. We accomplished what we set out to do.  We arrived home safely. And now we can even tell our family and friends that we were not merely by-standers for three years. Our families will know we made a difference to the outcome of this war."  He paused and scanned the faces of the three men.  "If you don't mind, gentlemen, I need to let my men know that we are now truly free."   
  
The three men didn't know how to respond, so Hogan got up and left without another word.  
  
**London, England, Fieldstone US Army Airbase,   
Hanger Bay Six,   
May 13, 1945, 2400 Hours  
**  
Hogan had just crashed on the cot assigned to him. _What a day._  After that meeting this morning, he had informed his men of the impending visit of the brass from Allied High Command.  He told them that they no longer had to keep their parts in the war a secret. They all were excited and wanted to celebrate.  Immediately, a search for the nearest liquor began. They were told that the medical staff had forbidden any of the POWs from alcoholic consumption until all medical exams were completed.  _Needless to say that didn't go over well._  It wasn't until 2000 Hours after returning from seeing Beth Newton again, after her duty shift, that Hogan had noticed his men had holed themselves up in hanger bay six.    
  
Hogan had opened the door to the hanger and was immediately assaulted with the wafting scent of alcohol.  He barely made it in the door before a glass of  'something' was shoved in his hand. He willingly joined in the festivities, but was also glad he had told Creighton that he wouldn't have any more problems with his men 'after' tomorrow.  He learned that Newkirk located the 'still' that the enlisted men had on the base.  He and several others had 'liberated' it, as well as enough ingredients, for the evening.  How the liberation occurred, Hogan was not privy too.  He was just glad his men could let off some steam.  From what he could tell, no one was inebriated. They were just relaxed and were enjoying each other's company.   
  
Hogan had also gotten word earlier this afternoon from Doctor Ballister that he would require surgery, but that it would indeed be more reconstructive. He said because the cheekbone was crushed, the German doctor was right to worry about more bone fragments, but he said that with the proper surgical situation, it would be a fairly standard procedure.  The surgery could even wait for things to settle down. _That was a relief.  And worth another round of drinks according to Newkirk!  
_  
**London, England, Fieldstone US Army Airbase,   
Empty Office,   
May 14, 1945, 1200 Hours  
**  
Hogan was now waiting patiently for General Simpson to show up.  _This whole thing is really coming to an end._  All that had to happen was the transfer of cargo and his men would no longer have any more duties to perform. They could then relax and enjoy their freedom. He had informed Sergeant Marlow about the transport and that he was to allow the members of the transport to move the cargo.  He also retrieved his briefcase from where Marlow had it safely stored. Along with the promotion orders for his men, the briefcase contained the cargo manifest, as well as his own promotion orders and stars.  He had brought it all with him.  
  
**_From just down the hall…  
_**  
General Simpson and Colonel Joseph Hogan arrived together from Allied High Command. General Simpson had asked sympathetically, if Joe could let him and his brother get business out of the way first, because Rob Hogan didn't know that his brother was going to be here today. This way Simpson explained, he and Hogan could get work out of the way, and then Rob and Joe could enjoy their time together before the assembly.    
  
Colonel Wright, who had met them, said that Colonel Hogan was already waiting for the General. When Wright had then been introduced to Colonel Joseph Hogan, it hadn't taken much to see the resemblance. Wright quickly escorted the two men to the office where Colonel Robert Hogan waited.  
  
Joseph Hogan now stood in the hallway outside the office to which they were escorted, leaning against the wall, with his stomach in knots.  _Just inside that room is my brother, who I haven't seen for 4 ½ years. Simpson told me when I arrived in London that Rob had been seriously injured recently.  And just this morning Simpson clarified those injuries to be that of a gunshot wound on top of a savage beating from a Gestapo interrogation. Simpson warned me that Rob was severely underweight. But, the good news is that he was indeed recovering and everything is going to be fine. I just can't let myself react to his condition. I have to remember the important thing right now is that Rob is alive and nothing else really matters.  
_  
**_Meanwhile inside the office…  
_**  
Colonel Hogan had come to attention and saluted, General Simpson. "Colonel Robert Hogan, reporting, sir."  
  
Simpson returned the salute and said, "Okay give it a rest, Hogan.  We both know by the time I leave here today you will outrank me." Smiling broadly, he extended his hand.  "Welcome back, Hogan." _Damn. I can see why the doctor was worried, Hogan looks like hell.  
_  
"Thank you, sir.  It's good to be back," Hogan said with a smile and returning the handshake. _Simpson's a two-star General. I'll outrank him? He must mean we'll be of equal rank.  
_  
"Do you have your promotion orders and stars with you, Hogan?" asked Simpson.  
  
Hogan opened his briefcase. "You mean these?" Hogan said as he handed them to General Simpson with a smirk. "My men deserve a mention as well, General. I will not accept my promotions without theirs."  He handed the briefcase over to Simpson. "All the paperwork needed for those promotions are in here.  Also, I have a manifest of the cargo we brought back with us."  
  
"Hogan.  As promised… your men will get the promotions you requested.  I will announce them today as well." Simpson took the proffered briefcase and removed the cargo manifest. "So.  What did you bring back with you?" Simpson read the manifest and his jaw dropped open. He shook his head in amazement.  "No wonder you wouldn't let anyone near it.  Incredible, Hogan.  One point five million in gold bars absconded from the Gestapo after they raided the Bank of France.  Fifteen original paintings from the Louvre by the likes of Monet and Van Gogh also liberated from the Gestapo."  The list went on. "It seems that almost every country at war with Hitler owes you and your men. Whether it was for the safe return of their soldiers or the return of priceless artifacts."    
  
"We did the best we could," Hogan said.  
  
"Don't be modest, Hogan.  You and your men have done the world an incredible service," Simpson said looking at his watch.    
  
"General.  You might want to know that the gold bars have been painted like bricks," Hogan pointed out. "So don't let their appearance fool you."  
  
"Bricks.  Should I ask why they look like bricks?" Simpson asked.  
  
"They were masquerading as a brick staircase for the last year and a half," Hogan told him.    
  
"A staircase.  You used 1.5 million dollars in gold bars to build a staircase," Simpson repeated.  "Tell me why I'm not surprised," he questioned of the ceiling shaking his head incredulously.  "Well.  I think we're done for now.   
  
"One more thing, General," said Hogan.  "Have you gotten word from General Birmingham about the transfer of prisoners?"  
  
"Oh yes.  Kyle reported that all prisoners arrived safely.  They will be held in Nuremberg indefinitely.  The War Crimes Commission has already begun its investigation, but it's going to take some time.  Kyle wanted me to ask you something though.  He asked and I quote 'Who won?', but he gave no further clarification. Do you know what he meant by that, Hogan?" asked Simpson.  
  
Hogan smirked and said, "Yes, General.  I do.  The next time you talk to him, tell him Barracks Twenty, score 34-32."  
  
"Okay Hogan.  Do I want to know what that's all about?" Simpson glanced at his watch.  _1220 Hours._  "No I guess I don't, but I will tell him." _Barracks twenty, score 34-32._ "I'm going to get the transport started on the movement of that cargo, as I want all your men present at the assembly."   
  
Simpson started to leave.  
  
"I'll go with you, General," Hogan said starting to follow.  
  
"No, Hogan.  You won't," General Simpson ordered in his best command tone. "There's someone outside who'd like to speak with you."  Simpson opened the door.  "Robert Hogan may I present Joseph Hogan." General Simpson left quietly at that point.  _Not that they even noticed._  
  
Joe Hogan entered the room.    
  
"Joe!" Hogan said shocked and excited, and grabbed Joe into a bear hug.    
  
"Hello, Rob," Joe said nervously returning the hug. _Oh my God!  He's so thin.  
_  
After a brief moment, Rob let go and began to pace around the room, asking every question he needed an answer too.  Three years of carefully worded letters just hadn't been enough.  "What the hell are you doing in London, Joe? - Oh my God that's right, you're a Colonel in intelligence now. Congratulations! -- How's John? Is he really ok? What happened? -- Mom and Dad they're ok? -- They had their 40th anniversary last year. How was that? -- Susan married Ed. I'm happy for them. How's the baby? -- Oh, are you still dating Pamela? -- Hey, do Mom and Dad still have Toby? He's got to be almost 12 now. That's old for a lab."   
  
Hogan had spouted his questions almost non-stop and it seemed he was going to continue for some time, until Joe took a hold of his shoulders to get his attention. "Rob.  Rob.  Take it easy," Joe pleaded.  _Rob is wound tighter than a coiled spring._  "Everyone is okay.  We have plenty of time to catch up now.  I promise I will answer all of your questions."  
  
Rob took a deep breath and smiled sheepishly saying,  "I'm sorry, Joe.  Your being here was completely unexpected.  It is very good to see you.  You look great."  Rob reached out and hugged his brother again.   
  
Joe returned the embrace saying, "Thanks.  Okay.  Let's see. -- Mom and Dad are doing fine, still in CT. They're getting older, though. This whole thing has been hard on them. -- John was rescued soon after his plane was shot down.  He suffered some spinal injuries, but he's okay now.  Still walking with a cane, but he's expected to recover completely.  He's at home with Mom and Dad.  Sue and Ed live nearby.  They've been great, helping with John's recovery.  They are very happy together and little Stephen is adorable.  As for me, I've been assigned to General Simpson to help with covert operator debriefings. And Pamela, well we broke up six months ago.  Then there's Toby, and he's still hanging in there."  
  
"I'm glad.  I hadn't heard anything at all for eight months. I can't wait to see everyone. I'm going to try and make a quick visit home before my new assignment," said Rob.  "Before that happens, though.  I am going to need some surgery, and God forbid I show up at home without putting weight back on."  Rob had said that rather nonchalantly as he didn't know if Joe knew anything else about his condition.  _I certainly can't hide the weight loss.  
_  
Joe stepped in front of his older brother and took hold of Rob's shoulders again.  He looked Rob directly in the eyes and said, "General Simpson told me what happened to you.  Are you okay?  You look like hell, you know," Joe said very concerned.  Rob looked even worse than he had imagined.  _And I'd imagined something horrible.  
_  
Rob glanced away from Joe's scrutiny.  When he returned his gaze he said, "Listen, Joe.  I'm okay.  Really.  It's over," Rob replied, trying to lighten up his reply, but did not want to lie to his younger brother.  "But I wouldn't recommend getting shot and almost beaten to death in the same night.  It really puts a damper on the evening."  
  
"How can you make a joke about this, Rob?!" Joe asked distressed.  
  
"It's just easier for me that way, Joe," Rob replied looking his younger brother in the eye.  "It's just easier."  Rob paused and took deep breath.  "Can we get past this?  It's over," Rob pleaded trying to change the subject, not wanting Joe to have to deal with his emotional baggage.    
  
"Okay. Okay," said Joe acquiescing.  _I guess Rob will talk when he's ready.  I won't push anymore._  "But I do have a question that has been bothering me since I arrived in London," stated Joe with a slight grin.  
  
"What question?" asked Rob skeptically, noticing that his brother's demeanor had changed quickly. _I'm glad Joe's changed the subject.  But now he's grinning? Why?   
_  
"How did my big brother -- Colonel Robert Hogan, the hot shot pilot, turn into -- Papa Bear, the super spy?  I've spent a year and a half at the Pentagon studying the exploits of many underground agents, so I could be ready to debrief them on their return.  Papa Bear had the most impeccable reputation. -- But, once I arrived in London and they told me that you were Papa Bear.  I've had every high mucky-muck at Allied High Command tell me some of the most incredible, as well as some of the most insane stories I have ever heard.  And they were all about you and your men.  None of what they told me had ever made it to the reports at the Pentagon."  
  
"Oh," Rob replied relieved that he could now actually tell Joe about his little secret.  "You answered your own question, Joe.  I was a pilot and all of the other men in camp with me were flyers.  We had no training in the art of intelligence. We just fell into a situation where we knew we could help.  We had no conception of how a spy ring worked.  We did learned quickly, however.  We found out that we were most successful at confusing the German Military machine.  Our saving grace turned out to be that we had always acted as cowed POWs who never were able to successfully escape from our Luft Stalag.  As a side effect of that, it seemed that almost every top-secret weapon of the German Military machine showed up for testing at our Luft Stalag.  Not to mention, that a lot of very highly classified meetings were held there as well.  Stalag 13 was, in the opinion of our Germans captors, the most secure facility they had.  So they used our Luft Stalag often.  And we were able to take advantage of their gullibility.  Every time."    
  
Hogan paused in his explanation.  _It could take days to explain everything._ He looked at his watch. "Okay enough for now.  We have to go.  It's almost 1300.  No rest for the weary.  Come on, little brother.  Duty calls."  
  
"Lead the way," Joe said, following Rob out of the office and noticing four men walking down the hall in their direction. He assumed they were Rob's men, as they were all dressed in the same flight suits.  
  
As they reached the four men Rob said, "Joe.  I want you to meet the men responsible for keeping me alive and sane for the last three years."  He smiled and indicated each man. "Ivan Kinchloe, Andrew Carter, Louis LeBeau and Peter Newkirk.  Guys.  This is my brother Joe."    
  
All five men exchanged pleasantries.  
  
"Oh, Colonel," said LeBeau swooning. "You need to know that the 'love' of my life is here at the base.  She arrived with the Russian General from Allied High Command. Beautiful mon-a-me!  She has already fallen into my arms." LeBeau then closed his eyes, and wrapped his arms around his imaginary 'love'.  
  
"Yeah, Colonel.  And now she's looking for you," stated Kinch, giving LeBeau a humoring sideways glance.  
  
"Marya.  Marya is here?  What the hell is she doing here?" Hogan blurted out nervously as he tried to ignore LeBeau.  
  
Joe had watched the exchange between his brother and his men. LeBeau seemed smitten with whoever this Marya was.  Rob just seemed uneasy.  But before Joe could ask anything, a tall Russian woman entered the building, heading straight for them.  His brother Rob looked a little panicked.   
  
"Hogan Darling!" she said loudly in a strong Russian accent and grabbed Rob by the shoulders. "You look terrible!  Kiss me, Hogan!" She enveloped Hogan in a huge embrace and they kissed, -- and kissed, -- and kissed.  The embrace continued endlessly.  
  
Joe thought it odd that Rob didn't seem to be fighting it -- at all -- he actually seemed to be enjoying it. _Strange_.  Joe glanced at his brother's men. They all seemed to be amused, even LeBeau.  Although, LeBeau did have a scowl on his face.   
  
Marya was the one to finally end the embrace with Rob.  She turned to LeBeau saying, "My small one." She kissed him on the forehead. The scowl on LeBeau's face disappeared.  Returning her attention to Hogan, Marya said, "So Hogan! What happened to you, my once strong and handsome man?" she asked patting Hogan's chest and shoulders.  
  
Hogan just scowled. "It's a long story, Marya.  What I want to know is.  What the hell are you doing in London?" Rob asked annoyed. "What are you up too?" he accused.   
  
"Why does one have to be 'up to something', my dear Hogan?" Marya asked.   
  
"Because, Marya… you are always up to something." Hogan stated matter of factly.  
  
"You still do not trust me! -- After all this time! -- The war is over, my dear, Hogan! -- I'm here with General Vladimir Chechenkoff.  He's here for the ceremony to honor you and your men. I just wanted to see you one more time. We worked together well Hogan, you and I.  And of course, you too, my small one."  Marya leaned over and pinched LeBeau's cheek.    
  
LeBeau again swooned. "I believe her, mon Colonel."  
  
Hogan gave LeBeau a look of long suffering, but said to Marya, "Yeah, that's true. We did put a few cogs in the wheels of the German War Machine together." Hogan then reached for Marya's hand and gallantly kissed it, but couldn't help notice the time on his watch. "We better join the assembly," he said skirting what appeared to be another attempt by Marya to embrace him.   
  
Marya threw up her hands in frustration, but found as she lowered them, that LeBeau was there for the embrace. She continued the embrace with LeBeau, as everyone followed Hogan out onto the runway.  As they exited the building, everyone went their separate ways, taking up their proper positions for the assembly.  
  
Joe Hogan bemused, hung back at the building's exit. _There's got to be a fascinating story surrounding that Marya. I will have to ask Rob about her. Heh. Why should another fascinating story involving my brother surprise me?  
  
Why indeed?  
_  
**London, England, Fieldstone US Army Airbase,   
Cargo Hanger,   
May 14, 1945, 1220 Hours  
**  
General Simpson had left the two Hogan brothers to have their reunion.  _Hogan looks like hell, but is still his sarcastic self.  That had been good to hear.  And the look on Hogan's face when his brother entered the room was priceless. I'm glad I got to see it._   
  
General Creighton had met Simpson as he exited the building, wanting to show General Simpson around, but Simpson wanted to make sure the movement of cargo was underway. So, Creighton fell into step beside him.  
  
"We're all set, General.  How many people are we expecting?" Creighton asked.  
  
"No more than a dozen or so," Simpson replied.  "They should be arriving shortly.  These men and women will represent every Allied force brought to bear against the Third Reich."  
  
"Hogan explained quickly what was going on.  But this whole thing has been highly irregular," Creighton said.   
  
Simpson laughed.  "General.  When it comes to Colonel Robert Hogan and his men, 'highly irregular' is standard operating procedure."  
  
"If you say so, General," Creighton said giving in.  
  
"I say so," Simpson said as he rounded the corner to the hanger where Hogan's cargo was stored.  "Major Stanford!"  
  
"Yes, sir," Stanford replied coming over to Simpson and Creighton.  
  
"Major.  You have very delicate and important cargo here.  Handle with care," Simpson said handing off the manifest to his Major.  
  
"Yes, sir.  Sergeant Marlow informed me of that as well," Stanford replied.  "We will take good care of it."  
  
"Did Sergeant Marlow also inform you the gold was colored like bricks?" Simpson asked.  
  
"Yes, sir.  Everything is under control here.  I have a full detail of MPs here.  We'll be safely underway in an hour," Stanford replied.  
  
"Very good.  Carry on, Major," Simpson replied.  
  
"Gold, General?" Creighton asked. "Colored like bricks, General?" _What had these guys been up to?  
_  
"Yes gold.  Colonel Hogan and his men have returned with a delightful array of merchandise from Germany.  Shall we go and inspect the assembly now?" Simpson asked enjoying the look of confusion on the other's face.  Simpson headed off to runway three where the assembly would take place.    
  
Creighton followed him.   
  
**London, England, Fieldstone US Army Airbase,   
Staging Area, Runway #3,   
May 14, 1945, 1230 Hours  
  
**General Simpson stood on the dais overlooking the runway.  The entire base was lined up in front of it.  Robert Hogan and his men occupied the center rank, surrounded by the base personnel.  On the dais with him stood a highly decorated group of men and women, representing every member country of the Allied forces.  They had come here to publicly acknowledge the work of the agent known as Papa Bear and the men who had helped him.  There was no reason to hide the truth any longer.  Besides Papa Bear had demanded that every one of his men be promoted at least one grade.  No one would believe that the Allied High Command would promote any man who had sat in a POW camp for three years.  It could be a very difficult situation for any man to explain to a superior.  
  
General Creighton acknowledged the assembly of his men and introduced General Simpson. Creighton returned to sit with his staff officers along side the assembled dignitaries. Simpson began to speak, "Good afternoon, ladies and gentleman.  I am sure you are all wondering why this assembly has been called.  Well I will try to explain.  Recently this base performed an airlift of personnel from a POW camp in the middle of Germany.  Those men are standing with us now.  Let us take this opportunity to welcome these men back to friendly soil."    
  
**_Simpson paused as the entire assembly cheered…  
_**  
After order was restored he continued, "There is another reason why we are here, however.  I am sure you've all heard of the underground agent, code name Papa Bear.  You've all been briefed on the ways to get in contact with the underground should you be shot down.  Over the years, there has been a lot of conjecture on just whom Papa Bear was or even if Papa Bear existed at all.  Most believed Papa Bear to be propaganda dreamed up by Allied intelligence.  I came here today to announce categorically that Papa Bear does exist.  He and his men have operated the most successful, and highly unorthodox, underground operation in the history of organized warfare.  And they did it all from a POW camp in the middle of Germany."  There was soft buzz through out the assembly.  "I'm sure that there are a few individuals out there who have personally met Papa Bear and who owe their freedom to him and his men."  
  
**_Simpson paused again when he saw the look of understanding dawn across a lot of faces…  
_**  
"This assembly is being held to thank and publicly acknowledge all that Papa Bear and his men have done for the Allied war effort. If Papa Bear and his men hadn't stayed in Germany and operated deep behind enemy lines, we just might have lost this war.  Their contributions to the Allied War Effort are immeasurable. Not only did they rescue and return our Allied personnel, but they also undermined the German War Effort at every opportunity.  If you haven't figured it out by now, Papa Bear has been on your base for the last 24-hours.  Colonel Robert Hogan is Papa Bear.  His men are all volunteers who stayed in Germany to ensure the success of his operation.  Bravo gentlemen!  Bravo and welcome home!"  
  
The assembly cheered.  The POWs from Stalag 13 went wild.  Hogan had told them that their operation was now no longer going to be kept a secret.  They had never dreamed that they would be able to openly talk about what they had done as POWs.  General Simpson stood waiting for quiet, though his face held a smile.  Finally, Robert Hogan held up a hand to quiet his men.  His men quieted down almost immediately and returned to standing at attention.  The quiet spread from the center out until the assembly once again was orderly.  
  
"There is yet another duty that my colleagues and I are here for.  Colonel Robert Hogan.  If you please?" Simpson asked with a gesture to compel the Colonel to the dais.  Hogan, embarrassed at the public accolade, walked slowly to the General's side.  Simpson still facing Hogan said, "Colonel Hogan.  I wanted your men to know that you have put them all in for promotions."  Simpson turned to face the assembly. "Colonel Hogan just handed me all of the paperwork for determining those promotions.  You will all receive confirmation within the month.  These promotions will be retroactive to the date you volunteered to become one of Hogan's Heroes."  
  
Simpson had to pause again when the POWs went wild.  These men had certainly earned the right to be rambunctious.  Finally quiet was restored for the third time, and he was able to continue.  "Unbeknownst to Colonel Robert Hogan, until very recently, he had received two promotions during his tenure as Papa Bear.  The first General's star came three months into his internment at Stalag 13.  The second star came a year and a half ago."  Simpson held up the case that Hogan had just returned to him. "Before I present these to you Colonel Hogan, you need to know that you have received another promotion.  Your third star arrived in my office just this week.  Colonel Robert Hogan.  It is my pleasure to reward the one man responsible for creating Papa Bear's underground organization.  Congratulations. Major General Robert Hogan, sir!"  
  
The assembly cheered.  Hogan's men could barely contain themselves. They continuously hooted and hollered. The assembled dignitaries rose and congratulated the new three-star General, Robert Hogan.  General Simpson approached Robert Hogan, followed closely by his two staff officers.  All three saluted and shook Hogan's hand to congratulate him. When Hogan had turned to face the assembly, his men finally quieted.    
  
"Ladies and Gentlemen. This is very awkward for me. My men and I had resigned ourselves to the fact that no one would ever know the extent of our operation in Germany.  We never started the operation for the accolades.  Now though.  I'm glad that my men will get the recognition they deserve.  They have sacrificed over three years of their lives to fight for a cause they believed in."  Hogan paused.  "I keep saying 'my men' and that's wrong.  Each of these men assembled here, volunteered to stay and work with me to help bring about the end of Hitler's Third Reich.  It's to each individual that I owe my thanks.  Without them, Papa Bear would not have existed.  Thank you, gentlemen."  
  
**Game's Over  
  
Author's Note One:  
**  
As promised… Quiz Question:  Who is Toby?  
Answer: Toby is Colonel Hogan's parent's twelve-year-old black Labrador Retriever.   
  
_Thanks for reading!  
Patti and Marg_  
  



End file.
